


When You Wish Upon A Star: Bucky's POV

by jaybird6232



Series: Dreams Really Do Come True [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe-Disney, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Artist Steve Rogers, Bottom Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a fucking piece of dog shit, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes records everything because he's a sappy lil' shit, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Bucky does not tolerate Brock's shit, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, First Time On A Plane, First Trip To Disneyland, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, How Do I Tag, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mechanic Bucky Barnes, Metal Arm Kink, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Oblivious Steve Rogers, POV Bucky Barnes, Pilot James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Kissing, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sharing a Bed, Steve Rogers Feels, Top Bucky Barnes, oblivious idiots, platonic handholding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-10-23 20:18:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10726476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaybird6232/pseuds/jaybird6232
Summary: “What’s your—holy shit.” In his hands are plane tickets to Los Angeles International Airport, and a Disneyland park hopper that lasts for fourteen fucking days. This…this isn’t real right? Bucky flips over the tickets and checks. Nope, nope, definitely real.He can just picture it now: Steve walking beside him wearing gigantic Mickey ears, his signature smile never leaving his face all day. Seeing Steve meet some of his favorite characters, and the large crowds giving Bucky an excuse to stay really close to Steve. Watching Steve stuff his face full of Disney treats and buying a shit-ton of merchandise. Sitting down with Steve on Main Street, watching the fireworks reflect off his face beautifully…It sounds perfect.





	1. The Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Hi my lovelies!!
> 
> I'm so sorry for being terrible and not updating as often as I would like. I have a huge surprise in store for a brand new series, but all good things take time ;)
> 
> I know I haven't updated [Steve's POV](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9537695/chapters/21566546) of this story in almost a month, and I am so so sorry. I will update it as soon as I can :')
> 
> Anyways, I think it's about time we see Bucky's side of things, so without further ado, enjoy!

**_(Friday. December 11, 2015)_ **

 

“Stevie, ‘m home!”

“In the kitchen, Buck!”

Bucky smiles as he toes off his shoes and closes the door to the apartment. He tosses the car keys into the bowl by the door and untangles his scarf from around his neck, hanging it up on the coat rack along with his jacket. Now, in just his jeans and red henley, he walks through the apartment and into the kitchen.

Bucky quietly leans against the wall and watches as Steve makes dinner. Good god, it should be illegal for someone to look so adorable while making something as simple as dinner. Steve is dressed in a white tee that’s covered in paint splotches and some worn jeans, but _damn_ , he looks like a work of art.

Bucky has no idea how Steve does it, but somehow, he catches Bucky’s eyes in _anything_ he wears. Literally, anything. Steve was once dared by Natasha to put on a tutu for a whole, and Bucky still thought he was hot. Steve parading around in tights? Yes please. 

“Hey,” Bucky calls out softly, earning a chuckle in response.

“Hey yourself. How was work?”

“Mmmm, same ’s usual. Had a couple oil changes and some tire rotations, nothin’ too special.”

“D’ya sh—”

“Yes, I showered at the shop. I know how much ya hate the oil on my skin when I get home.” And it’s true. Steve says it’s bad for his skin or something, so he tries to always clean himself off right away whenever he spills some on his work jumper or shoes, and that’s why he’s started showering at the shop and bringing a spare set of clothes with him.

“Yeah yeah. Sam stopped by earlier, by the way.”

“And? What’d he hafta say?”

The grin that Steve gives Bucky over his shoulder is enough to send Bucky’s heart soaring miles per second. He loves it when Steve smiles; it’s probably one of his favorite things, besides Steve of course.

Setting down his wooden spoon, Steve walks to the other side of the kitchen while Bucky eyes his cute little ass in those beautiful jeans. Steve’s got the most adorable ass ever, and the bastard doesn’t even realize it. That ass has gotten stared at so many times in public, Bucky wanted to die of jealousy.

Steve walks back over to him with an envelope in hand, the huge grin on his face never wavering, his eyes twinkling happily.

“What’s that?”

“An early Christmas gift from Sam.” Steve hands over the envelope, allowing Bucky to open it for himself.

Bucky shoots Steve a confused smile. Early Christmas gift from Sam. Yikes, what’s it going to be this time? Another gift card to a coal factory?… Bucky’d rather not talk about that, actually. Bucky stares at Steve long and hard, before he tears it open. Inside is a note from Sam. When he reads it over, it’s definitely not what he was expecting.

 

**_Dear Bucky,_ **

**_Before I say anymore, don’t get mad at Steve for accepting this gift from us._ **

**_He didn’t have much of a choice anyways; it was either he accepted it without much of an argument, or I would kidnap him and throw him in my suitcase._ **

**_Anyways, that’s not the point._ **

**_I know how hard this year has been for all of us; Clint losing his job, only to get it back like a day later, Natasha breaking her arm back in June, Maria and I almost breaking up…. Steve almost losing his huge art commission, and for you, well, it’s year number three with your new arm, and you are doing amazing by the way. Keep it up, Terminator. :)_ **

**_So anyway, in recognition of all that, I’ve talked to my folks and decided to treat you all._ **

**_So pack up your bags, because we’re picking you boys up at six a.m._ **

**_See you both tomorrow, bright and early._ **

 

“Sincerely, Sam.” Bucky finishes, careful not to read the ‘p.s’ part aloud; **_Make a move, before it’s too late!_**. Damn you, Sam Wilson.

“There’s more inside the envelope.” Bucky’s sure that Steve’s face is about to snap in half, given with how big the other man is grinning.

“What’s your—holy shit.” In his hands are plane tickets to Los Angeles International Airport, and a Disneyland park hopper that lasts for _fourteen fucking days_. This…this isn’t real right? Bucky flips over the tickets and checks. Nope, nope, definitely real.

Oh man, he hasn’t been to Disneyland since his high school graduation, but if he remembers correctly….. Steve’s never been. There’s no way he’s going to let this opportunity, of seeing his best friend happy, slip.

He can just picture it now: Steve walking beside him wearing gigantic Mickey ears, his signature smile never leaving his face all day. Seeing Steve meet some of his favorite characters, and the large crowds giving Bucky an excuse to stay really close to Steve. Watching Steve stuff his face full of Disney treats and buying a shit-ton of merchandise. Sitting down with Steve on Main Street, watching the fireworks reflect off his face beautifully…

It sounds perfect.

“Is… is this what I think it is?”

Steve nods, biting his bottom lip tentatively and _god_ , Bucky just wants to lean down and bite it for him. Bucky has no idea how he’s going to last for two weeks with his best friend (the same guy he he’s been in love with for over half his life) at Disneyland, but he’ll do whatever it takes, because Steve is the most important person in his life, and Bucky would do anything to see him happy.

“Okay,”

Steve’s eyes go wide in shock, said he was expecting Bucky to say no. But honestly, how could Bucky say no to a face like that? “Really?!”

“Uh hu—” Steve jumps into his arms before he can even finish, bony arms wrapping around his shoulders and angelic face tucking into the crook of Bucky’s neck. Bucky immediately wraps his arms around Steve’s body to keep the younger man from falling, tucking his metal arm beneath Steve’s, frankly adorable, little ass to get a better hold on the other man. Steve winds his legs around Bucky, and Bucky has to remind himself to keep his cool.

“Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Steve whispers, sweet and warm against Bucky’s neck, and Bucky can’t help but smile and close his eyes, cuddling his head closer to Steve’s.

“Anything for you, Stevie.”

___________________________________________________________

 

“I cannot believe that I let you talk me into this, Stevie.”

“Oh c’mon Buck, ’s not _that_ bad.” Steve’s right, it’s _not_ that bad. _Bucky_ can deal with the stares from adults and kids and airport security because of his arm, but what he can’t deal with is the looks some male travelers at the airport are giving _Steve_. Stupid little punk decided to dress in an outfit that makes him look like sex on legs; it’s like he’s _asking_ for someone to pick him up and fuck his brains out.

Not that Steve is actually aware of any of these glances, because Bucky has been shooting all those guys some death glares of his own, and has been walking extra close to Steve, occasionally even putting his hand on the small of Steve’s back as they walked through the airport. And it’s not like Steve is wearing anything too extravagant; he’s in a pain blue tee, some dark skinny jeans, and one of _his, Bucky’s,_ leather jackets. It’s a little big, but _damn_ , Steve looks good in his clothes.

Currently, he’s glaring at the airport security guard who’s giving bedroom eyes to Steve. Steve, the blond little sex-walking shit, is too busy grabbing another plastic bin for his art bag to notice. Bucky tries to make things clear to the guard, so he grabs the art bag from Steve’s hands and puts it with his own things.

Steve sends him a toothy grin, before that same guard calls him forward. The guard looks up, his smirk saying _“You can’t do anything now”_ , and Bucky feels his muscles coil. Bucky glares, eyes narrowing and fists clenching. All the things he would do to this guy if he could.

No one gets to look at Steve like he’s nothing but a hole to fuck. Absolutely _no one_. Steve is so much more than that. He’s kind, loving, forgiving, funny as hell, annoying as shit, and has such a beautiful soul. Steve’s got a heart too big for his body, as well as a temper that far surpasses his physical capabilities, but Bucky loves him.

Damned him if he didn’t.

“Oops, sorry ‘bout that.” Steve apologizes and leaves Bucky’s side.

Bucky watches as his friend goes through the scanner, then stretch his arms out to the side so the guard can do his routine check. Bucky notices that Steve’s shoulders literally drop in relief once the guard waves him through, and Bucky chuckles dryly. Steve has always been anxious of body scanners.

The guard waves him forward, signaling that it’s Bucky’s turn, so he obliges with as much politeness as he can muster. Once he walks through however, a small beep goes off on the scanner. Shit. Shit shit shit. The guard arches his brow with a cocky smirk and twirls his finger, silently asking Bucky to lift up his arms. The guard’s handheld scanner begins to go crazy when it ghosts over Bucky’s left arm.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to lift up your sleeve,” The guard says, and… is he fucking _smirking_? Oh god, this guy has some serious nerve. Bucky looks at the guard before warily, not knowing what else to do. What if he gets stuck here at the airport, and security doesn’t allow him to leave? Bucky nervously glances over at Steve, only to see the blond looking back at him.

“Sir!” Steve calls, rushing towards him and the guard. “Sir, I’m sorry. Wait wait wait.” Bucky watches as nimble fingers hand the guard a piece of paper, and he can’t help but raise a brow. Where did Steve get that? And what’s on it?

Bucky’s eyes flick between Steve, who is nervously biting his lip, and the guard, who is trying to burn hole through the paper with pure rage in his eyes. Finally, the guard looks up at Bucky with a cold stare, then looks down at Steve, the man’s eyes growing dark at the sight of the blond, who is completely oblivious as he pockets the paper. He continues looking at Steve before Bucky grunts in anger, causing the man to abruptly look away and dismiss them. _Yeah man, fuck off. My Steve. Not yours._

Letting out a breath, Bucky follows Steve to the end of the conveyor, pulling on his shoes and tucking away his phone, before he throws his arm over the smaller man’s shoulders. His friend snorts in response as he grabs his art bag, then leads the way to their carry-ons, which are waiting for them a little farther down the line.

Arm still strewn across Steve’s shoulder, they grab their bags and walk to their flight gate, taking a seat on some nearby chairs. Bucky keeps his arm on the back of Steve’s chair, daring anyone to come near and try something with Steve.

“There you fucks are, we’ve been looking for you!” Oh god… Sam. As generous as Sam is for organizing this entire trip, it’s still _Sam_. A hand grasps his shoulder before the rest of their friends; Natasha, Clint, and Maria, walk into view, taking their seats next to him. He doesn't miss the side glance that Natasha sends him, and the smirk from Maria.

Sam lets him go after a few seconds, walking around and taking a seat next to Maria. Bucky looks over at Steve, only to see that his friend has kind of… spaced out, completely lost in his own thoughts. Maybe he’s just so excited that he… zoned out for a second? Bucky’s not entirely sure, but when he goes to ask Steve what’s wrong, his phone buzzes in his hand.

**_Natasha: You gonna tell him yet, or continue eye-fucking him?_ **

**_Maria: Better make a move, hon_ **

God, Bucky has no idea why he agreed to a group chat with Maria and Natasha. They had told him it would be a good idea, but ever since he started the chat, all they do is tease him about Steve.

**_Bucky: I’m NOT eye-fucking anyone, Nat. Shut up. And no thanks Maria_ **

**_Maria: Y?_ **

**_Bucky: Because he doesn’t like me that way, and I’m not ruining our friendship_ **

**_Natasha: You poor, oblivious delinquent_ **

**_Bucky: >_<_ **

**_Maria: I thought Sam was stupid sometimes, but you? Lord have mercy_ **

**_Bucky: Whatever u fuks_ **

**_Maria: I’m hurt_ **

**_Natasha: He’s just bitching cuz he hasn’t gotten in ‘Stevie’s’ pants yet, don’t take it personally Mars_ **

**_Bucky: I’m not bitching! And I’m not stupid!_ **

**_Maria: A smart person texts w/ both hands; even tho urs is metal, I know it has heat sensors and heat capability, because I made sure to include that in the designs when I gave the plans to Stark. But, you can’t txt with two hands because one is behind ‘Stevie’s’ chair, isn’t that right?_ **

Even though they are a couple seats away, Bucky can hear Natasha snort at Maria’s reply, and watches as both girls show the conversation to their boyfriends. Oh shit.

**_Natasha: This is Clint btw, but bro, seriously. c’mon, make a move already._ **

**_Maria: It’s Sam, and I’m with Clint on this one. The sexual tension between you two is enough to send the world into WWIII._ **

**_Bucky: Fuk ya’ll_ **

**_Natasha: Nah, the only one you want fuck is your precious ‘Stevie’_ **

Bucky knows for sure that that comment came from Natasha, not Clint. Or maybe it was Clint… It has been hard to tell the difference lately, since they have decided to gang up on him and bombard him with nothing but a slew of texts. This is obviously not the first time that it’s happened.

**_Maria: Just don’t break his heart, k? You both deserve something good._ **

**_Bucky: I wouldn’t even DARE to break his heart, I’m not like that._ **

**_Natasha: We know that; just making sure that you know that too :) ;)_ **

Rolling his eyes, Bucky sends back a smile icon of his own, before he pockets his phone. Just in time, too.

“Flight 297A to Los Angeles, California, is now ready for boarding. All passengers for Flight 297A to Los Angeles, California, the plane is now boarding.” 

“That’s us!” Clint shrieks, jumping out of his chair and running with Sam to the gate, both of them tying but failing to roll their carry-ons correctly. Bucky rolls his eyes as he gets up, gently tapping Steve and pulling him too.

“Oh lord,” Natasha says with a loving sigh, adjusting her messenger bag on her shoulder. “He’s such a child.”

“Damn straight he is,” Bucky comments, causing Maria to snort indignantly. They make it to the gate, handing the airline attendant their tickets. Once they are all approved, she steps aside and gestures to the tunnel.

“You excited for Disneyland, Stevie?”

“Oh, yeah!” Steve starts, a huge grin taking over his face. “Did you know that they’ve got—” And the little blond punk goes on and on about the attractions and rides at the park. Bucky gets lost about two seconds into their conversation, settling instead for watching Steve get so worked up with excitement that his face practically splits open. Bucky’s so glad that he let Steve accept the invitation from Sam, because he wouldn't trade this moment for the world.

He knows that Steve’s had some rough patches in his life, which had his friend drowning in a state of depression for awhile. He’s hoping that this trip will change all of that.

They’re inside the plane before Bucky even knows it. Carefully, they make their way to their assigned seats, after some struggle of course. Airplane aisles really aren’t that large. Bucky somehow manages to throw his carry-on in the compartment above him, then he motions for Steve to hand his own over.

Steve, being the stubborn little shit he is, just shakes his head. “I can do it Buck, it’s fine.” Bucky watches as Steve easily lifts up his carry-on and places it beside Bucky’s. Bucky didn’t think for a second that his friend couldn’t do it; quite the opposite in fact. He _knows_ Steve is capable of putting up his own bag.

But what Steve doesn’t understand is that whenever he lifts up his arms, his shirt follows the motion, revealing a small expanse of smooth, pale skin, that Bucky just wants to sink his teeth into and mark up with beautiful hickeys. His cock twitches in interest, so Bucky has to pull himself back into the real world before he does something stupid.

“See?”

Bucky resigns from the argument with a smirk, “Yeah, I know you can. But I still coulda helped ya.” Biting his lip, he steps back and throws out his arm, gesturing to their given seats. Normally, Bucky’d be racing to have the window seat, but not now. This is Steve’s _first_ trip in a plane, and he wants him to have the best seat in the house. Or, plane. Or, whatever.

“Buck, you sure? I know you like the—” Steve protests, but Bucky cuts him off.

“C’mon Steve, this is your first flight! You gotta sit by the window! It’s the best part!” His tone means no arguing, so Steve goes without much of a fight and takes a seat, sliding all the way in and looking out the window. Bucky takes a seat soon after, scooting next to Steve and resting his head on the smaller man’s shoulder. He’s so happy that the rows on this plane only have two seats each, because he sure as hell doesn’t want anyone else to be part of this moment.

Bucky angles his eyes upward, watching the blush that travels up Steve’s face before the latter turns and looks out the window again.

“You excited Stevie?” Bucky mumbles, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, breathing in Steve’s scent. Steve wears a very simple cologne; nothing too extravagant or strong, just simple. It’s just something that’s distinctively _Steve_ , and Bucky could get high off of it.

Steve hums. “Yeah. Kinda nervous though, but that’s normal, right?”

Bucky lifts his head off his best friend’s shoulder with a nod. “Yeah. I’d think so. I remember the first time I went on a plane; I was kinda freaked out, but I just remember looking out the window and watching the take off… Steve, it’s truly amazing. You’re gonna love it.”

Steve nods in affirmation, parting those plush lips to respond when he’s interrupted by the pilot of the plane. “Good morning everyone, I just wanted to say thank you for flying with us today. This flight will take approximately… six hours, and right now it’s almost seven a.m. here in beautiful New York. However, due to the time change between the two coasts, we will arrive in Los Angeles at around ten a.m.. I know many airlines don’t do this; tell you about the time change, but hey, I like to help.”

Bucky leans over and whispers into Steve’s ear, “Yeah, he also likes to talk too.”, causing a chuckle to emit from his friend, making Bucky absolutely beam. He loves making Steve laugh and seeing his smile.

“Okay, the flight attendants are going to run by the aisles and give you further instructions. This plane is going up in about five minutes.” With that, the transmission cuts out and the attendants begin to flood the aisle, giving out instructions while they hold up the emergency booklet.

“Buck, look. Someone’s giving you, _the look_.” Steve teases as he pulls out his phone, fiddling with it.

Bucky rolls his eyes, slightly bothered. He glances in the direction of the male flight attendant that Steve had insinuated was looking at him, and realizes that, yes, this stranger is in fact staring at him with a dark and hungry expression. Bucky responds with a tight smile, showing literally no emotion at all. He does not want this guy thinking that he is interested as well, because he’s not. There’s only one man that he’s got the hots for, and that’s Steven Grant Rogers.

“Yeah, and?”

“Nothin’, I’m just sayin’.”

Bucky leans in close, his breath ghosting over Steve’s neck purposely. “You implyin’ somethin’ Rogers?”

Steve laughs, another blush rapidly engulfing his body in flames. “Ha, you wish Barnes.”

_You’ve got no idea, pal._

“Okay folks,” The pilot’s voice comes over the plane’s speakers again. “This is Captain Rhodes; we are going to be taking off right now, so make sure your seat-belts are secured properly, because we are about to head off to Los Angeles.”

The plane jerks forward suddenly, causing Steve to gasp and grab Bucky’s arm in panic. Bucky can’t help but laugh at his friend, patting his thin arms lightly.

“We haven't even left the ground yet Steve,” Bucky says over another giggle, adding a smirk.

Steve lets go of Bucky’s arm and straightens his posture. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever punk.”

“Jerk,” Bucky retorts, making Steve stick out his tongue at him. Jesus Christ, that cute little pink tongue; Bucky wants nothing more than to suck on it and— _Dammit Barnes, calm down._

Steve turns back to the window, and Bucky takes the chance to whip out his phone, opening the camera app and starting a video. This is one of his favorite things to do, record Steve. Steve is just so fucking photogenic, it makes Bucky go crazy. The camera just loves him, that’s for sure. That’s not the real reason why he likes to record Steve, oh no.

He likes to relive these moments later on. He wants to be able to watch Steve go on his first flight over and over again if he wants to. And this isn’t the first video he’s taken, that’s for sure. He’s got a whole _album_ full, and Steve doesn’t know it. Sometimes Steve will catch him recording and just watch him with an _“I’m disappointed in you, Bucky”_ expression, but he never tells Bucky to stop. So, he doesn’t. And he never plans on stopping either.

The plane starts to turn and face the long runway ahead, making it clear that takeoff is going to happen very, very soon.“Holy shit, this is actually happening.” Steve mutters quietly.

“Yes it is Stevie. Say hi to the camera,” Steve turns and glances at Bucky’s phone before looking up at him. Even though he’s known this punk his whole life, Steve’s big blue eyes never stop taking his breath away. They’re _stunning._ Big blue orbs of sunshine and happiness, complemented by mile-long lashes and dusty-pink cheeks. Truly beautiful.

“What’re you doin’, Buck?” Steve breathes out, exasperated.

“I’m recording ya! This is your first fight, say hi!” Bucky shakes his phone a bit, as if it wasn’t obvious enough already..

The blonde rolls his eyes but obliges, stating right into the phone lens. “Hello Bucky’s phone. This is Steve Rogers, but you already know that…” Steve averts his gaze back up to Bucky. “What else am I ‘posed to say?”

Bucky laughs at Steve’s adorable, yet confused face. All he really wants is to lean forward and just kiss the tip of Steve’s cute little nose. That’s all he wants. It’s something so _simple_ , just a little kiss. That’s all he wants… _Barnes. Calm your fucking shit._

“Nothin’, just pretend that I’m not here.”

Again, Steve sticks out his tongue at him and turns back to the window. Bucky simply rolls his eyes and keeps recording his oblivious blonde angel.

“Oh my god, Buck we’re taking off!” Steve suddenly scoots to the edge of his seat, face lighting up as bright as the fireworks that go off on his birthday every year. Bucky can’t stop the smile that spreads across his own face as he watches his friend become so lost in the sights outside.

Bucky knows that Steve knows that he’s acting like a complete child; face pressed up against the window, eyes wide with admiration and shock and completely captivated. What Steve doesn’t know is that Bucky wants to always see Steve with a smile this big; happiness radiating off him from every possible point.

Ever since good ol’ Sarah Rogers passed away when Bucky was seventeen, and Steve was sixteen, Steve hasn’t been the same. They both haven’t, really. Sarah Rogers was such a big part of their lives, losing her… it was awful. It was like their heart got ripped out and they were expected to continue living without that necessary part of them. It was a struggle to say the least. And Steve had just come out of the closet that year, while Bucky had done it back in grade school.

The teasing and bullying was relentless for Steve, and Bucky would know, he’d broken too many opponents bones and gotten countless detentions because of it. When his mother Winifred asked him why he did it, _why_ he got himself in trouble to help his friend, he just simply replied, _“It’s exactly what you’d do if people were doing this to dad, right?”_ She had studied him for a minute before nodding and pulling him into a hug, which was kind of hard, considering that he’s over a foot taller than his mother. _“Yes,”_ she whispered, _“It’s exactly what I’d do.”_

“Buck! Buck look!” Steve’s face is so close to the window by this point that he might as well be sticking his head out the side of the plane. Bucky has to suppress the urge to chuckle out loud when the window nearly fogs up completely due to Steve’s breath.

The plane finally lifts off the ground, the wheels closing loudly underneath the large machine. The giant metal bird steadily gains altitude, flying over and leaving the airport behind. They are officially on their way to California.

“Oh… oh my g-god…. Bucky,” Steve mumbles to him, even though he’s not facing him, but the window instead. Bucky keeps his camera trained on his friend, watching with an endearing gaze as Steve unpockets his phone and snaps a picture. He knows exactly what Steve’s doing: he takes a picture so he can sketch it later. Bucky’s seen Steve do this countless times. Aside from the selfies of him and Steve that Steve keeps on his phone, majority of the pictures in Steve’s camera roll are that of landscapes, open roads, and people going about their daily life.

Bucky watches the pads of Steve’s artistic fingers run across the cool glass, carefully playing with the thought of touching the clouds. He has no idea how, but Steve manages to look ten times more beautiful in this moment.

“Buck…” Steve mumbles in a soft tone. “Do you… do you see this?” The blonde finally turns around, and Bucky swears that there are _tears_ in Steve’s eyes. Those ocean colored eyes widen a fraction when they see Bucky’s phone still recording, but then those same eyes are looking into his, and… god, Steve better look away before Bucky starts crying too.

“What do you think of it, Stevie?” Bucky winds up asking, and Steve turns away, looking back into the clouds.

“It’s… it’s beautiful Buck.”

“Yeah… you—it really is.” _Shit_.

___________________________________________________________

 

Steve falls asleep less than an hour after take off; half his body slumped against window. Bucky’s honestly not surprised, the damn guy was up all night, too excited to fall asleep. It took Bucky locking Steve in his room for the blond to finally calm the fuck down. (It wasn’t really locked, but Steve doesn’t need to know that).

Bucky quietly lifts up the arm rest that is barricading him from Steve’s sleeping form, and unblocks his own seatbelt, before leaning over and releasing Steve’s belt as well. Carefully, he moves Steve’s sleeping body so that he’s lying down instead of being in a godawful position. Steve’s head is now resting in his lap, those plush lips parted and letting out tiny huffs of breath. He looks like an angel. Steve sleepily snuggles into his thigh, his hands tiredly grabbing onto the firm muscle, and Bucky chuckles. Steve’s so adorable when he sleeps.

Bucky’s in the middle of stroking Steve’s hair that’s strewn across his forehead, when he notices Natasha staring at them. He lifts up his head in confusion, coming face to face with a raised eyebrow.

“You gotta tell him eventually,” Natasha whispers over the aisle, nodding her head in Steve’s direction.

Bucky sighs, looking down at the blond in his lap. “I know… and I will… I just…”

Natasha gives him a sad smile. “I know you will James. You’ll find the right time.”

___________________________________________________________

 

“Good morning folks, quick update: we’re twenty miles from Los Angeles.”

That’s literally all the pilot says, and Bucky can’t believe it. Why the actual fuck would the pilot give an update like that, it’s not— _oh_.

The attendants start to file through the plane aisle, and the same guy that was giving Bucky fuck-eyes earlier is now scowling at him, gesturing to Steve’s still sleeping form.

“Sir, he needs to be sitting up,” the attendant remarks coldly.

“‘Kay.” When the guy doesn’t get the hint to leave, Bucky looks up at him and growls. “Do you need something?”

As quick as the guy came, he’s gone again, throwing dirty looks over his shoulder as he walks towards the back of the plane, possibly gossip to the other attendants about Bucky’s behavior.

“You’re possessive.” Natasha comments, and Bucky looks across to her. She’s editing pictures of Clint on her phone, sunglasses perched on her head and legs crossed elegantly.

“I’m not possessive.”

“Uh huh.” She rolls her eyes. “But just incase you wanted to know, Steve finds that kind of thing hot for some reason.” She goes back to her phone and lets Bucky absorb this new information.

Steve likes it when he’s possessive? Hmm…

Bucky tucks that thought into the dark corners of his mind, the corner that contains all the scenes and thoughts of taking Steve apart and fucking _ruining_ him and making him _his_. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before; damn him if he didn’t because, honestly, who can’t have sinful thoughts about Steve Rogers? It’s kind of impossible not to.

“Steve? Stevie?” Bucky coddles, silently brushing away blonde tufts of hair from his friend’s face.”C’mon baby, time to wake up.”

He doesn’t realize what he says until it’s too late, freezing and chancing a glance at Natasha. She’s smirking _and_ throwing him a thumbs up. _Goddamnit_.

Steve’s eyes flutter open, those mile long lashes flitting over his cheeks as he slowly gains consciousness. “Hi?” Steve questions dumbly, looking up at him with hazy eyes.

“Hey Stevie, we’re about to land.” Bucky cards his hand through Steve’s hair, biting his lip when the smaller man blushes six ways to Sunday.

“Wha…” Yawn. “…time is it?” Yawn, again.

“’S about ten-fifteen, California time. The pilot just announced that we’re gonna land in about five minutes, so you gotta get your seatbelt back on ya.”Bucky states, before he yawns too, trying to cover it with a laugh, only to fail and yawn again. He completely misses the look of endearment on Steve’s face in the process.

“‘M ‘kay,” Bucky’s lap instantly feels cold when Steve sits up and buckles his seatbelt, and he misses it instantly.

“Alrighty folks, this is Captain Rhodes.” The captain’s voice pulls Bucky out of his stupor and misery, and he masks over his pain and buckles up his seatbelt. “We are about to start the landing process, so keep those belts on, because we are starting our decent to LAX.”

“He still talks too much,” Bucky tells Steve as he pulls out his phone. Unlocking it, he scrolls through his apps before he finds the camera app again. Bucky nearly drops his phone when the camera opens up and reveals his face instead of Steve’s… Jesus _fuck,_ that’s terrifying.

Quickly, he taps on the screen and flips the camera so that it’s facing Steve, and tries to get his friend’s attention.

“Steve.”

No response.

“Stevie.”

Again, no response.

“Steven.”

Confused, Bucky looks up and calls out to him again. “Hey Stevie, yoo hoo,” Steve still doesn’t look at him, so he waves his hand a little in an effort to get his attention, and _finally._ Those beautiful baby blue eyes meet his and this time, he’s the one getting lost in his own thoughts. _Steve’s so pretty,_ Bucky thinks. _He’s got the face of an angel and a heart of gold. Oh shit, fuck me. God, is there any way to make you mine, Stevie?_

Steve raises an eyebrow, looking at the camera with a trenchant stare and a smirk on his lips. Bucky somehow manages to get his body to cooperate with him and he turns his attention back to Steve.

Steve’s still looking at him, yet this time, his look is replaced with confusion. Now it’s Bucky’s turn to smirk. Without a word, Bucky tips his head in the direction of the window, prompting Steve to look as well.

“What’re you lookin’ at—Whoa!” Steve presses up against the window, eyes wide and smiling like an idiot. Bucky bites his lip as he watches Steve lose his shit by the window.

He feels an odd sense of… _pride_ and happiness and love and warmth by watching Steve. Bucky can’t quite explain it, but he feels responsible for Steve’s exuberant behavior, and that in turn makes him feel like the luckiest man on earth. Right now, in this moment, Bucky Barnes was able to make Steve Rogers happy, and he wouldn’t trade that for the world.

“Oh my god, we’re landing! Buck, we’re landing!” Steve turns his head to look at Bucky, a huge smile on his face. Bucky can’t help it, he immediately grins back. “C’mere, c’mere!”

With a chuckle, Bucky does as he’s told and leans forward. Maybe a little too much, and maybe a little too much _on purpose_. But he can’t help himself, and he completely presses his body up against Steve. He doesn’t miss the blush that crawls up Steve’s cheeks, and he has to resist the urge to lean forward and taste it.

Bucky thinks back to his conversation with Maria and Natasha, as well as Natasha’s comment about Steve liking it when he was possessive…

_Maybe, just maybe…_ Bucky smirks. He’s going to have a fun time on this trip.

Pulling up his phone, which is still on video he suddenly notices, Bucky brings the small device in front of their faces and tells Steve to smile. He takes the picture with a large smile, matching Steve’s expression exactly. Looking over, he sees Steve’s giant smile, and he can’t remember the last time Steve smiled like that since before this trip started.

Bucky doesn’t even notice that the plane has stopped, until the pilot speaks up, “Everyone, welcome, to The City go Angels.”

___________________________________________________________

 

Bucky’s leaning against the wall near the airport bathrooms with Clint, Natasha, and Sam, waiting for Steve and Maria to finish using the bathroom so they can head to lunch, when Natasha approaches him. They just got off the flight a few minutes ago, and they’re all tired, hungry, and just dead on their feet.

“James.”

“Hmm?” He hums, not looking up from his phone. He’s adding the videos he took of Steve on the plane to the album that he has in his phone, and changing his screen saver to the selfie he took when they landed.

“I saw that little _stunt_ you pulled back on the plane.” She mocks, adjusting the sunglasses perched on her head.

Confused, he turns off his phone and looks up at her. Her expression is murderous, and he feels a shiver run down his spine. “Stunt? What st—”

“Don’t play dumb. Calling him _baby_? What the hell, James?” Natasha demands, crossing her arms and unknowingly making herself ten times more frightening in this moment.

“I-It slipped, Nat. I didn’t—I don’t—I…”

“Did you mean it?”

“What?”

Her eyes change from anger to hope, and Bucky is so taken aback by the sudden change that he doesn’t know what to say. “Did. You. Mean. It?”

“I… I… well…” Bucky sighs in defeat, knowing that he’s been caught. Instead of teasing him, Natasha grins happily and pulls him out of earshot of Sam and Clint.

“You meant it.” Natasha states, her tone challenging Bucky to deny it.

“…yes.”

“This is perfect. This is perfect!” Natasha shouts, getting a sour look from an old woman walking by. The red head blushes from embarrassment and quickly apologizes, before looking back at Bucky.

“You gotta tell him.”

“What?! Natasha, are you out of your fucking _mind_?” Bucky’s dumbfounded. She can’t actually be suggesting that he _tell_ Steve, the man he’s been crazy in love with since God knows when, that he likes him. Loves him. _Whatever_ … he just can’t!

Why would he set himself up for disaster? For the sure possibility of being rejected? Steve obviously doesn’t like him. Steve deserves better than him. Steve deserves someone who isn’t fucked up and has a metal-fucking-arm. Steve deserves so much more than Bucky can give him, and while it hurts him to admit it, he knows it’s true.

“No James, I’m in a perfectly clear state of mind. You’re the one who’s got fog in their brain, not me!”

“Nat, I love you, and don’t take this the wrong way, but this is the worst idea you’ve ever come up with.” Bucky claims. “You’re setting me up for failure.”

Natasha doesn’t respond for a few seconds. All she does is study him, scanning his face, his expression, his eyes, and making him feel stark naked. It’s like she’s just delved into his mind and extracted every single one of his thoughts, and he’s not to sure how to feel about it.

Bucky watches as she turns her head towards the airport bathroom doors, before quickly turning back to him and pulling out her phone.

“Steve’s gonna kill me.” She quickly unlocks it and scrolls, looking for an app. “Steve’s gonna kill me.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Natasha?” But she doesn’t respond. She keeps muttering _‘Steve’s gonna kill me’_ under her breath, completely ignoring Bucky as she continues on her quest to find whatever the fuck it is that Steve is _apparently_ going to kill her over.

When she stops moving and stares at her phone with a grim expression, he knows that she found what she was looking for. Natasha slowly hands him her phone, a look of fear and discomfort lining her features as the device slips into his hands.

“Nat…” Bucky asks, too afraid to look down at her discovery. “What’s this?”

“Just read it. Don’t say anything. You tell Steve I showed you this, he’s gonna fucking murder me.” Bucky has to hide his look of surprise; he’s never heard or seen Natasha act so afraid. Her entire body is shaking and her breathing has picked up. She’s _genuinely_ terrified.

Doing as she tells him, Bucky looks down at the phone in his hand. The screen shines back a string of texts, and he realizes that he looking at a text conversation between Natasha and Steve.

“Nat, I really don’t think I should be reading this, this is private, between you and Ste—”

“Look, you like Steve. That much is obvious. Just read the fucking text.”

Bucky sighs, unable to do anything but agree. He looks back down and braces himself for the worst.

**_December 1, 2015_ **

Bucky stops and notices right away that this text conversation happened just eleven days ago, and he can’t help it. He starts to read, and as the old saying goes, curiosity kills the cat.

**_Natasha: Heeeyyy Steven._ **

**_Steve: Nat it’s 1 in the fuking morning what do u want_ **

**_Natasha: rude much? I’m bored_ **

**_Steve: pft, tell me about it_ **

**_Natasha: What, is James not there to keep you company?_ **

**_Steve: … actually, yeah, he’s not here_ **

**_Natasha: What, why not?_ **

Bucky remembers that day… he went out on yet another date to try and get over his feelings for Steve… which didn’t work at all… and he didn’t come home until the next day. He ended up bailing on his date and opted to walk through the streets of New York instead, trying to clear his mind and come to terms with the fact that he just _couldn’t_ get over Steve. Steve is everything that he wants in life, and no one else could replace Steve. Unfortunately, when he didn’t come home, it scared the shit out of his friend, and he vowed never to do that again.

**_Steve: idk, he said something about a date or whatevr_ **

**_Natasha: … are you okay?_ **

**_Steve: …… I’ll survive, i’m used 2 it by now_ **

**_Natasha: Want me to come over and bring the vodka? Drink away your problems?_ **

**_Steve: nah, I’ve already got that covered_ **

**_Natasha: you’re drinking without me? shame on you Steven XD_ **

**_Steve: oh fuk off nat, i needed it_ **

**_Natasha: seriously tho, are you okay?_ **

**_Steve: yes._ **

**_Natasha: shit. no you’re not. you never use punctuation._ **

**_Steve: well I’m using it now._ **

**_Natasha: this is because of James, isn’t it?_ **

**_Steve: what do you think_ **

**_Natasha: if you just told him you liked him, you wouldn’t be feeling like shit right now._ **

**_Steve: sure nat. okay. and lose my best friend? not happening_ **

Is… is Steve saying what Bucky thinks he’s saying? No… no way, right?

**_Natasha: you’re not gonna lose him, Steve_ **

**_Steve: ur hilarious :|_ **

**_Natasha: get it through your thick and stubborn skull, he likes you dammit, and you like him. it’s perfect!_ **

**_Steve: good bye nat_ **

**_Natasha: Steven don’t you dare ignore me_ **

**_Steve: fine, whatever. you’ll be the first person i tell when buck and i DONT get together_ **

**_Natasha: …_ **

**_Steve: lol goodbye nat, gonna go back and drink away my suffering and go 2 bed_ **

**_Natasha: goodnight you oblivious dolt_ **

**_Stave: *middle finger emoji* *heart emoji*_ **

Bucky feels like he’s about to cry. Like, actually fucking cry. He had no idea that he had unintentionally been causing Steve pain. Feeling terrible is not something he likes, and now, that’s all he’s feeling. Bucky’s eyes begin to water as he turns off Natasha’s phone and gives it back to it’s rightful owner. Natasha rubs his arm in an effort to comfort him, and he leans into her touch, cupping his face in his hands in the process.

How could he have been so stupid? How did he not notice Steve’s suffering this whole time? Can he do anything right?

“There’s more, you know.” Natasha says softly, and he looks up, wiping his unshed tears with the back of his hand.

“What?” His voice comes out scratchy and rough, and he cringes at the sound.

“That’s not the first time he’s said that he likes you, James. And if he knows that I told you this and showed you… he’s gonna fucking murder me. Please don’t tell him.” Her voice sounds small and painful and guilt ridden, and it makes Bucky’s heart clench.

Pulling Natasha into a hug, Bucky shakes his head and squeezes her tightly. “It’s okay Nat, I’m not gonna tell him you showed me. But…”

“But what?” Natasha mumbles into his shirt, her voice lined with fear and despair, her entire body shaking with anxiety.

“But… I am going to do something about it.” He smirks and Natasha’s head whips up to look at him, a huge smile splaying across her lips.

“Y-you are?! Wait wait wait, you’re being serious??” 

When he nods, he nearly gets tackled by the red head, the wall behind him keeping him from coming in contact with the ground. Natasha laughs happily into his neck, nearly choking him with a hug. “Finally! God, I’ve been waiting for this forever.”

“Yeah yeah, shut up.”

Natasha pulls away and smooths out his shirt, laughing wetly. She fixes her shirt soon after, a giant smile still on her face. “You and Steve both deserve a happy ending, Bucky.”

Bucky freezes and looks at her in awe. She’s never _once_ called him Bucky, saying that it sounded stupid and dumb; _‘Your mother named you James, so that’s what I’m going to call you. Your nickname sounds like a sex joke’._ Classic Natasha.

“You… you just… you… you called me… Bucky?”

She shrugs happily, like she doesn’t care. “Only this once, James.” Dammit, never mind then. “I’m happy. Don’t fuck this up.”

“I don’t plan on it.”

“You don’t plan on what?” A voice suddenly asks, and Bucky turns sharply to see Steve walking towards them, an eyebrow raised in question. Maria, he finally notices, has also come back from the bathroom, and is chatting with Sam and Clint.

Bucky coughs, clearing his throat hard, before he trusts himself to speak. “I don't plan on leaving here without going to the, uh, the gift shoppe.” It’s a plain lie and he knows it, but he can’t think of anything else to say.

“The gift shoppe.” Steve repeats with a deadpan, clearly not believing Bucky or his ingenious lie.

“That’s uh, that’s right, the gift shoppe.” Bucky can see Natasha glaring daggers at him in her peripheral vision, and he knows why. He will tell Steve, he _will._ He just has to find the right time first. “Gotta get me some Doritos.” He sends Steve a wink, and gets a mock-gasp in return.

“You were gonna get Doritos? _Without me_?”

“Yep,” Lifting himself from the wall, he sidesteps around Natasha and links his metal-arm through Steve’s, pulling his friend in the direction of the gift shoppe. He looks down to see Steve blushing, and does a little happy dance inside. Score. “Nah, I’m just kidding. I’d never get Doritos without you, Stevie.”

“You better not.” Steve huffs.

“I would never,” Bucky promises. Due to his ‘little lie’ about the gift shoppe, the group actually walks halfway across LAX to go to the gift shoppe, Natasha boring a hole into the back of his head the whole way.

The shoppe is small, probably larger than the one in the New York airport, but still small. Upon entering, Steve and Sam head straight to the back corner, where a whole wall of chips sit and wait to be purchased. Bucky walks around, unsure of what to buy. He migrates to the front counter, where a man, probably around the of forty or fifty with a rounding stomach, sits and waits for someone to come to the cash register.

“Good morning,” Bucky says, leaning against the counter and watching Steve go crazy with the amount of chip varieties. He smiles at his friend’s exuberance, and resists the urge to laugh when a bag of chips falls from the shelves and hits Sam on the head.

“Good morning, young man. Where’d you fly in from?”

“New York, sir.”

“Good place, real nice up there.”

“Yes sir.” Bucky gets up to walk to Steve and the chips. Nothing against this man, but he’s not one for small talk. He’s not even sure why he said hello. But when he turns, something else catches his eye.

Behind the counter is a huge case, along with some shelving and cabinets, but it’s the _products_ on the shelves that gains his attention. 

KY Jelly. 

A small row of purple, lube-filled squeeze bottles line the shelf, and his interest is suddenly peaked. Bucky had no idea that airports actually _sold_ lube, but it becomes clear to him that they do. Looking over at Steve, he sees that the blond is completely engrossed in a conversation with Sam. Bucky doesn’t have a lot of time, so he’s going to have to do this as quick as he can. He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t.

But he does.

“Hey, umm, how much for the…” Bucky tips his head in the direction of the lube, suddenly too shy to ask for it by name.

The man, ‘Todd’ as his name tag displays, turns and looks to where the lube lies in wait. Bucky hears the man chuckle. “How many do ya want, kid?”

“Uhh…” _Hurry up Barnes, hurry up!_ “T-two, please…?”

“Sure thing,” Todd replies, grabbing two small bottles and placing them on the counter. Bucky quickly pays and shoves the bottles in his pocket; the bottles are relatively small, about the size of a pack of gum, so they barely make an indent in his jeans. Bucky thanks Todd and backs away from the counter, just in time for Steve to walk by and put down his chip choices and pull out his wallet.

“I didn’t know which ones you wanted, so I got you Cool Ranch. That okay?” Steve asks innocently, completely oblivious to the fact that Bucky just purchased two bottles of lube that he intends to _hopefully_ use on his friend. Now that he thinks about it, Bucky feels perverted, yet slightly turned on.

Just the mere thought of having Steve’s small body underneath his, squirming and begging for release, marked up in love bites and sweat, makes his head spin in pleasure. _Dammit Barnes, keep your fucking dick in your pants and focus._

“Y-yeah,” Bucky’s voice cracks under pressure of being caught. “That’s perfect, Stevie.”

___________________________________________________________

 

When they get to the hotel, things aren’t so perfect.

Bucky’s fucking _exhausted_ , and that’s putting it lightly. He didn’t sleep a wink on the plane, instead choosing to watch Steve sleep and play with his friend’s blond hair. To him, Steve is more important than sleep. Only _he_ could protect Steve from danger, so that’s what he did. He watched. He stayed aware. He protected. 

But that doesn't mean that he’s not tired.

And thank God that they’re at the hotel, because he’s on the verge of falling over and passing out. The whole group shoves into the elevator, leaning up against each other in exhaustion. Steve is holding onto the crook of his elbow, resting his head on his forearm as they wait to reach their floor.

The elevator bings, and much to Bucky’s dismay, Steve lets go of him and steps out with everyone else. He watches Steve go with a longing expression.

“Buck, you coming?” Steve calls out, and Bucky can do nothing but smile. _I’m comin’ Stevie._

The cold air hits him like a tidal wave as he steps out of the elevator, wind blowing through his hair and chill sending a tingle down his spine. He looks over at Steve, and his breath catches.

Steve’s cheeks are tinged pink from the cold, the color contrasting beautifully with his pale skin. His blond hair, his gorgeous blond hair, is rustling in the breeze, making it look like a beautiful mess. A beautiful, beautiful mess. _Mine,_ Bucky brain supplies.

_No,_ He reminds himself. _Not yours… yet._

The group bids each other goodnight, and head to their respective rooms. Bucky can’t wait to get inside, because he’s about to pass out.

“Oh my godddddddd,” Bucky drawls out, opening the door for Steve, because even though he’s tired, it’s _always_ time to be a gentleman. Once Steve is through the door and inside the hotel room, he walks through the threshold and shuts the door, dropping his bags on the floor and flopping down on the bed face first. He doesn’t take the time to map out where everything in the room is, except the basics: the beds, the bathroom, the windows, and the sink.

_It’s so comfortable_ , he thinks, cuddling into the hotel-provided pillows. _So fluffy and cozy and warm._

Bucky turns his body when he hears Steve flip on the light above the sink, and his small movement makes him remember that he has two bottles of lube in his pocket. Shit. Shit shit _shit_. He doesn’t have a lot of time. Without thinking, he opens the drawer of the bedside table and sets down the bottles of lube quietly inside, before gently closing the drawer. Bucky gets back into his original position, trying to make it seem like he hadn’t moved at all.

_Smooth, Barnes. Real smooth._

God, now that he thinks about it, why did he buy lube? Of all the things he could have purchased, he got _lube_. He wasn’t truly thinking, but there’s no turning back now. It was… he can blame it on the spur of the moment. Steve _likes_ him _back._ What else was he supposed to do? Just let the lube sit there and mock him, taunting him of his chances? Yeah, no.

But… is he reading into it too much? Maybe he is. Maybe Steve doesn’t like him as more than a friend. Maybe Steve likes someone else… that thought makes his insides twist uncomfortably. Just the idea that Steve would be with someone that’s _not_ him makes him want to throw up.

And he knows. Bucky knows that he shouldn’t be acting like this. This possessive and assuming, but he can’t help it. He wants it. He wants to be Steve’s boyfriend. His lover. His forever. His everything.

Bucky always knew that there was more to their friendship than what they portrayed, and maybe… maybe he could do something about it. That simple string of texts between Natasha and Steve is all the conformation that he needs.

He’s going to do it.

He will.

He’s going to do everything he can to win Steve over, and hopefully by the time the trip is over, he gets to go home with a boyfriend. Bucky is going to try everything he can, because Steve is fucking _worth it_.

He’s not going to be flashy, but he’s pulling all the shots. Bucky’s going to be subtle. Telling Steve that he loves him might put his friend in an asthma attack, and he can't have that. Perhaps he can make small innuendos, or strongly hint at the fact that he loves Steve. Hopefully Steve will catch on, so he can finally make a move.

He’s spent far too long wondering what it would feel like to kiss Steve’s plump lips, his sharp cheekbones, his stomach, his hips, his everything. He wants to do everything with Steve, but only as much as Steve would allow him to do. He’s not going to push if Steve doesn’t want any of that at all, because making sure that Steve’s comfortable is all that matters to Bucky.

“BUCKY.”

Bucky’s head snaps up quickly in the direction the voice. It’s Steve, and he’s looking right at him. Concern riddles his face, his eyes wide and questioning. “Huh, what?”

Steve snorts as he turns around, and Bucky realizes that his friend is beginning to unpack. He knows he should be unpacking his bags too, but he’s so tired. He can do it in the morning.

“Where d’ya go, Buck?”

Bucky hums. “Amazin’ places, Stevie.”

His eyes begin to droop before he can say anything else, and he slowly drifts off. He can unpack his bag in the morning. For right now, he’s going to sleep…

Or not.

He stirs awake. Not quite awake though. Bucky’s borderline between sleep and being alert. How long was he out?

“Hey Buck,” Steve’s voice sounds so far away, and he feels like he’s going to panic. He needs to be close to Steve. He has to protect him. A cool feeling hits his face, and his eyes slowly blink open. Steve’s kneeling by his bed, brushing Bucky’s hair back and tucking it behind his ears. _That feels so nice Stevie._ “Buck, ya gotta help me out here, bud. Think ya can turn over for me?"

Bucky hums pleasantly, slowly but surely turning over with Steve’s help. Then Steve’s artistic hands are reaching for his belt, and all of his sanity flies out the window. He just _barely_ contains the moan that threatens to escape as Steve works him out of his jeans. He squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lip, muffling a pleasant whine that he last-minute changes to sound like a tired yawn.

He hears Steve shuffle around the room, before he comes back and beckons for him to sit up. Bucky’s taken by surprise when Steve lifts up his shirt, pulling it off in one fluid motion.

He can’t help himself.

He flops back on the bed, snuggling into his pillow. That was the best experience he's had in a very, _very_ long time. Bucky’s on cloud nine, and when he feels Steve pull the covers over his body, he almost comes in his boxers. What makes it even better is that Steve has no idea of the affect that he has on Bucky.

Steve gets up with a snort and walks away, completely oblivious and leaving Bucky hungry for his touch again. He’s drifting off to sleep when Steve turns off the lights in the room and crawls into the other bed across from him, the blond sighing in content as he falls onto the mattress.

“Night Stevie,” Bucky mumbles quietly, and he can practically hear Steve’s smile.

“G’night Buck.”

Operation “Disney Boyfriend” will be set in motion tomorrow, but for now, he’s going the fuck to sleep.


	2. Day One Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bucky look at the train! Look at the train! Oh my god there’s a fucking train here! Did you know they had a train?” Steve whips out his phone, taking a monumental amount of photos. “Can we go on it sometime?”
> 
> “Steve,” Bucky chuckles. “We’ve got two weeks to kill here, we can go on the train as many times as you want. But for now,” Bucky pulls Steve close and he swears that he hears Steve’s breath hitch. “I’ve got other plans.”
> 
> “W-what’s that?” Fuck. Steve has no idea what he does to Bucky. He’s gonna do it, right now. This is his moment. His moment to tell Steve that he—
> 
> “Alright love birds, break it up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies, I'm back! With another chapter of Bucky's POV!!
> 
> Don't worry, I'll be getting to [Steve's POV](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9537695/chapters/21566546) soon. I'm going to get them both caught up so that they're in the same place. That way, for each update, there will be a chappie for Bucky and a chappie for Steve❤︎
> 
> Hope you lovelies enjoy this :)

Bucky wakes up with a groan, his eyes clouded with the remnants of sleep and exhaustion. Taking in the view of the hotel room from his position on the bed, the first thing that he notices is that Steve isn’t in the other bed, and he instantly panics. Setting aside his tired state, Bucky’s breathing picks up dangerously.

His fragile mind fogs over, his thought process fading to just one objective: _Steve_. He can’t think of anything else in this moment. Steve was here when he fell asleep. Now he’s nowhere to be found, and Bucky wants to die. If he loses Steve, then he loses his everything. He’s about to throw off the covers and jump out of bed when he hears the faint, distant sound of water running. It takes him a second to realize that it’s the sound of the shower, and a sense of calm washes over his bones, allowing him to fall back on the bed with a relieved sigh. _Steve’s okay,_ Bucky chides himself, running his hand over his face roughly. _He’s just in the shower. Steve’s okay. Steve’s safe. Stop panicking, Barnes._

Steve’s protection, comfort, health, and safety are Bucky’s top priorities; if it were any less, he’d probably throw himself into a fit of depression. He _has_ to be there for Steve, just like Steve _has_ to be there for him. They can’t be without each other for more than a few days, well, at least Bucky can’t. Putting his thoughts to rest, Bucky turns around and cuddles into his pillow, relishing in the soft plush against his cheek. He can’t fall back asleep, his anxiety preventing him from doing such a thing, so he focuses on Steve’s bed and waits for Steve to come out of the shower.

To come back to him.

And his waiting pays off.

The water shuts off, the pipes clanking softly in protest. It’s not long before Steve emerges from the bathroom, the sudden shine of light blinding Bucky. He squints tiredly, trying to get a better look at his friend, and he wants to moan at the sight of Steve.

Steve looks like he just walked out of fucking _heaven_. The steam from the shower clouds around Steve like a plethora of sex appeal and seduction. Steve’s probably not even _aware_ of it as he quietly shuffles around the room and grabs some clothes, going back into the bathroom and shutting the door.

Bucky wants to laugh and cry at his current predicament. He’s half hard, mind filled with thoughts so sinful that the Devil is beckoning him to come home, and he has no idea what to do. With tentative hands, Bucky palms softly at his dick, trying to think of something other than Steve. It doesn’t work as well as he hoped, but at least he’s gone soft by the time Steve walks out of the bathroom again.

His efforts to keep himself from getting hard are ultimately in vain.

When Steve flips on the light over the sink, Bucky gets a beautiful view of his friend; Steve is basically _naked_. Well, technically Steve _is_ wearing clothes, but it’s not doing much to cover anything. As Steve brushes his teeth, Bucky takes a closer look and realization hits him like a truck. That’s… that’s _his_ shirt. He lent it to Steve so long ago that he forgot he owned it, yet here it is on Steve.

He’s not afraid to admit that Steve looks sexy as hell in his clothes. Steve always looks sexy, but seeing him in Bucky’s clothes has brought it to a whole new level. Bucky can’t take it anymore; he gets out of bed and trudges to the sink just as Steve finishes brushing his teeth. Apparently his friend didn’t hear him get up, because Steve screams when Bucky suddenly appears behind him.

“Ahh!” To Bucky’s pleasant surprise, Steve backs up and collides with his chest. His breathing is fast and wavered, body tense and eyes wide. On instinct, Bucky’s hands reach up and grasp Steve’s bony hips, trying to stabilize and ground the panicking blond. The last thing Bucky needs is to throw his friend into a panic-attack.

Steve’s hands clamp over his, white-knuckling his wrists at staring at him through the reflection of the mirror. Not knowing what else to do, Bucky rests his chin upon Steve’s damp hair and sends a toothy grin back. “Mornin’ Stevie.”

Steve snorts as Bucky yawns exaggeratedly. “Mornin’ ya fuckin’ dork, how d’ya sleep?”

_Oh Stevie,_ Bucky laughs to himself. _So_ ** _spritely_** _in the morning._ “Surprisingly okay, actually. You?” Bucky asks, trailing his hands down Steve’s body and ending at the cutoff of _his_ shirt. Steve blushes, the deep color of red disappearing underneath the thin fabric of the shirt. Bucky knows that he could easily tell Steve that he likes him back right now. Right in this very moment. He can. He could. He _should_ …

And yet… and yet it doesn’t _feel_ like the right time. The right moment. The right place. Bucky knows it’s going to happen soon, he can feel it down in his soul. It might be later today, or it might be tomorrow or the next day, but he is going to tell Steve that he loves him. Even if it kills him.

“Really good, to be honest.” Steve replies, and Bucky wants to cry from happiness. It’s no secret that Steve’s got a back problem, and it’s also no secret that sometimes Steve doesn’t get a goodnight’s sleep. But hearing that Steve actually slept comfortably fills Bucky with so much pride that he wants to burst. Wrapping his arms around Steve tightly, Bucky gives him a hug and relishes in this moment. Steve’s happy, comfortable, and safe, so Bucky must be doing something right.

“Ugh, you smell; go shower.” Steve groans loudly, causing Bucky to laugh and regretfully let him go. Bucky sidesteps around Steve and opens the bathroom door, flipping on the light with ease. The first thing that he notices is that this is a really nice fucking bathroom. Extremely nice. Probably the fanciest hotel bathroom he’s seen (not like he’s seen a fancy bathroom before, but that’s not the point).

Bucky strolls over and pulls back the shower curtain, bending down to turn on the water. When he straightens and turns around, Bucky notices Steve quickly turn his head away and pretend like he wasn’t totally just staring at his ass. He toys with the hemline of his boxers as he calls out to Steve. “Care to join me, Stevie?”

It’s forward, there’s no doubt about that, but he’s genuinely offering. He’d gladly shower with Steve, anytime and any day if he’d let him.

“You wish Barnes.” _You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been wishing, Stevie._ “Hurry up, it’s almost six fifteen.”

Steve doesn’t say anymore, turning and walking away, leaving Bucky alone in the bathroom with a pout. _Dang it._ The door closes with a simple push of his hand, and he locks it for good measure. Just in case. Grey boxers fall to the floor as he steps into the shower and closes the curtain; pulling up the tab and letting the warm spray cover him instantly like a blanket.

Bucky makes quick work of his hair, lathering it with soap and untangling the knots. His bedhead is nothing short of a bird’s nest, making his simple task twice as hard. He’s trying to make time for… other things. He can’t help it. He was half hard when he woke up, and had to suppress his desire. But now, oh _now_ he gets to have some fun.

After much struggle, he finally manages finish washing his hair and move things along. Bucky rubs a small bit of soap in his palm, scrubbing it with both hands until it becomes a froth of bubbles and slick. His hand slides down his body gently, and he tries with all his might to tell himself that this is _Steve_ doing this instead of him. That it’s _Steve’s_ hands slowly closing around his cock, stroking him at a leisurely pace. _Steve’s_ thumb running across the slit, gathering the small pool of pre-cum on his finger and tasting it. Oh god, would Steve like how he tastes? He has no idea, but he hopes. He truly hopes that Steve will.

He can almost feel Steve’s breath on his cock, panting harshly. Bucky opens his eyes, imagining that Steve is on his knees before him, those beautiful baby blue eyes wide and blissed out; mouth hanging slightly open, his tongue tentatively running over his lips. He can see Steve look between Bucky’s face and dick, then lean forward to give the tip of Bucky’s cock a small kitten-lick. Bucky throws his head back with a groan, biting his tongue to muffle his moans. Steve licks him again, pressing small kisses along his shaft. Bucky slowly feeds himself into Steve’s mouth, his breathing picking up as Steve takes him deep.

_Fuck Stevie. T-there, right there. Fuck… Oh god sweetheart, so good. Yes Steve, yes. Yes, oh f-fuck._

Bucky’s head falls forward against the tile, the cool feeling sending a tingle down his spine. As he works his hand harder and faster along his shaft, he can’t help but imagine what it would _really_ feel like to have Steve touch him this way. He thought that imagining it would _help_ his predicament, but it has only made it worse. Bucky wants Steve so bad. Not just sexually, oh no. He wants to be Steve’s boyfriend and hold hands with him and kiss him whenever he wants just because he _can_. They’d be together and it’d be perfect. Everything is perfect as long as Steve is a part of it.

Bucky comes silently, his teeth digging into his flesh arm in an effort to suppress the small moan of _“Steve”_ that he lets out. He doesn’t know how he’s going to survive this trip without telling Steve that he likes him nearly every second of the day, but he has to.

Or maybe… or maybe he doesn’t. You know what, Operation Disney Boyfriend is back, up and running and _ready_. Bucky’s going to tell Steve that he likes him, and there is nothing that’s going to stand in his way.

Turning off the water and stepping out, Bucky grabs a towel. As he’s about to dry off, he hears Steve shout from outside the bathroom. _Shit. Steve’s hurt. Something is wrong and I couldn’t protect him, dammit Barnes!_ That’s when he hears the hotel door open. _Fuck no, someone’s taking Steve._ Bucky knows that that’s highly unrealistic, yet he can’t stop himself from thinking the absolute worst.

“Steve,” Bucky throws open the bathroom door aggressively, fear and panic running through his body as he turns towards the door. “Who’s at the door—oh.”

Bucky quickly gathers his composure, trying to smile over his now-embarrassed state. It’s Clint. Fucking Clint Barton. The least scary human being on the planet. Bucky wants to smack himself for being so overprotective. Steve isn’t _his_ , he needs to calm the fuck down. What’s he’s doing, how’ he’s acting… it’s just not _right_. Until Steve says so, Bucky isn’t his lover, no matter how much it kills him to say that.

“Hey Hilary _Clint_ on.” Bucky has no idea what else to do besides crack a joke. But when he sees Steve ogling his bare chest, he feels a twinge of _want_ coil in his chest. Steve can be his, there’s no denying that; however, it’s just not the right time to ask him. Much to his dismay, Steve quickly snaps his gaze away and back towards Clint.

“Aren’t you hilarious.” Clint deadpans, glaring at Bucky over Steve’s shoulder. “Anyway, first of all, put on a fucking shirt Barnes, and both of you hurry your asses up; we leave in forty.”

Bucky wants to scoff; why cover himself up if Steve looked at him like he was a god? Seeing that look in Steve’s eye made him want to take him then and there… Bucky was just _barely_ restraining himself.

Just as the door closes, Steve sprints around him in a flash, the sound of drawers opening and items dropping to the ground following him. Bucky turns around to watch, completely amused by Steve’s excitement and energy. When Steve trips on his way to the closet, Bucky puts a stop to it. Of all things, Bucky doesn’t need Steve to get hurt on his _first_ day at Disneyland.

“Whoa, slow down there sport.” Bucky snags Steve when the blond tries to run past him, picking him up and pulling him to his chest. Steve wiggles in his arms, trying to free himself from Bucky’s iron grip, but to no avail. Bucky bites at his lip, abruptly stopping himself from imagining what it would be like to have Steve wiggling underneath him on the bed, begging and crying for—

_Barnes, fucking stop._

Right, right. Yeah. Deep breaths.

How would Steve look with love bites littering his body? Cum lining the expanse of his skin, smooth milky lines of heaven? His beautiful blue eyes blissed out and hair tousled? Bucky has to stop himself again, or else he’s going to pop a boner, and that’s the last thing he needs right now.

“Sit.” Bucky tells Steve, setting him down on _his_ bed and turning towards the closet. Walking over and carefully examining the contents inside, Bucky opts for his leather jacket and takes it off the rack, setting it down on the bed. Technically, it’s not really his jacket anymore, since Steve wears it more often than he ever does. When Steve had tried returning it a few weeks back, Bucky simply shook his head, saying that he had plenty of jackets and didn’t need it back. It wasn’t a lie when he said that he had enough jackets, but the real reason why he didn’t want it back is because he likes seeing Steve in his clothes… and he’s not afraid to admit it either.

When he places the jacket on the bed, Bucky notices the shirt that Steve picked out and has to stop himself from scolding Steve. It’s a fucking _short sleeve_. Is Steve begging to get sick?? But instead of saying anything, he switches out that shirt with a similar one of Steve’s from the dresser. It’s a long sleeve this time, which Bucky is grateful for.

“M’kay, all good.” Bucky mutters, stepping back and adjusting the towel around his waist. Steve stands, making his way over to Bucky and looking at the outfit he has laid out. After a few seconds of Steve not saying anything, Bucky feels his stomach drop. Does Steve not like the outfit? Is it because of the jacket, or—

“Okay, looks good.”

“Yeah?” Bucky questions, uncertainty and hope lining his voice as he lifts his head.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go change real’ quick.” Steve smiles up at him, grabbing his clothes and strolling over to the bathroom and closing the door behind him. Then it’s a mad dash for Bucky to get ready. He drops his towel onto the bed and rummages through the dresser, easily finding his clothes.

As he’s picking up his jeans, he stops dead and stares at the drawer. He… he doesn’t remember unpacking his bag, and that’s because he _didn’t_. That can only mean one thing: Steve did it. Warmth flutters through him as he turns to look at the bathroom door for a few seconds, a smile gracing his lips.

Bucky gets dressed, the smile never leaving his face as he pulls on his jeans and shirt. Steve is so nice and considerate that it makes Bucky’s head spin. How did he get so lucky to have Steve in his life?

___________________________________________________________

 

“You’re not getting that,” Natasha proclaims, glaring at Steve before turning to look at the menu. Steve huffs, shooting a look at Bucky that says _“Help me?!”_ , but Bucky just shakes his head with a laugh. Steve and Bucky are both crammed in the last row of the rental car; Natasha and Clint in front of them, and Sam and Maria in the front. Bucky silently thanks Natasha for the seat set-up, after all it was her idea.

“But Nat—” Steve protests, pouting adorably.

“Natasha, let ‘im get whatever he wants.” Sam chimes in, pulling the car forward to order.

“Samuel Wilson, do not encourage him.” Natasha’s tone dares Sam to argue with her, her stare hard and unwavering.

Steve looks like he is about to jump in and say something else when a high-pitched voice interrupts him. “Hi welcome to Starbucks! What can I get started for you?”

Bucky looks up just in time to see Sam smirk. He knows that smirk far too well. It’s Sam’s ‘defiant’ smirk.

“Yeah, hi.” Sam lifts up his sunglasses, staring ahead at the menu before him. “Umm, could I get a Venti Carmel Frappuccino please?”

Natasha whips her head up, horrified. “No!” She shout-whispers, but it’s too late. Steve pumps his fist in the air with a cry of joy while Natasha mumbles something about _“too much sugar”_ and _“Diabetes Steven. Diabetes.”_. Bucky directs his attention to Steve to watch him do a happy wiggle in his seat. _He’s such a fucking dork._

Sam orders the rest of their drinks, earning an indignant slap on the back of his head from Natasha. When Bucky laughs, Sam turns around and throws a napkin at his face; effectively missing, but it’s the thought that counts.

Sam pulls the car through the drive-thru, collecting their drinks and distributing them throughout the car. But once Steve gets his drink, Bucky’s mind turns to mush. From the corner of his eye, Bucky can see Steve’s plump, soft lips closing over the straw and sucking; his cheeks hollowing out and eyes closing; moaning quietly at the sweet taste.

Angling his body away from Steve’s, Bucky turns and carefully palms at his steadily growing cock. Steve just doesn’t seem understand what he's doing to him at all, and that’s what makes it even better. Steve is just so fucking _innocent_ that his actions affect Bucky twice as hard; literally and figuratively.

_Get it together, Barnes._

___________________________________________________________

 

Steve is bouncing in his seat like an absolute child, a huge grin stretched across his beautiful face as Sam pulls into the Disney parking structure. They’re here early, which means that there are fewer park visitors than at normal time. An exchange of cash with a cast member at the booth gets them to their parking spot, small traffic cones lining the area and sending them in the correct direction.

Sam pulls into a free spot on the third story, effectively turning off the car and tucking the keys into his coat pocket, before turning around to face Steve. “You ready for this, Steve?”

“Yes! Let’s get going, c’mon c’mon!”

“Eager much?” Clint asks sarcastically as he unbuckles his seatbelt, then squawking indignantly when Bucky backhands the back of his head. “Fuck you, Casanova.”

“Fuck you too, Barton.”

So what if Steve is excited? He has _every_ right to be, it’s his first-ever time at Disneyland. Who _wouldn’t_ be excited? Bucky knows that Clint means no real harm, but he’s not going to put up with any form of teasing directed towards Steve and the blond’s excitement. Seeing Steve happy and elated is reward enough, and he doesn’t want to see that diminish.

Clint rolls his eyes and gets out of the car, moving his seat so that Bucky and Steve can both get out as well. But when Bucky crawls over to leave, Steve takes an alternate route; that route making him completely climb over Natasha’s seat instead, giving Bucky a wonderful view of his ass.

Not that he’s complaining though. Steve has the most adorable ass ever.

Coughing to clear his thoughts, Bucky exits the vehicle at long last, joining the rest of his friends outside. Clint throws him a smirk, making it clear that he had totally seen Bucky eyeing Steve’s ass. With a roll of his eyes, Bucky throws his arm around Steve’s bony shoulders, puling him close and guiding him towards the escalators. Steve shudders underneath his touch, his cheeks flushing to a beautiful pink. Bucky just barely restrains himself from pulling Steve’s head towards his and kissing his plump lips.

Within a few minutes, the group is down by the Trams, eagerly waiting in line for their turn to board. Steve shrieks happily and points when the Tram drives around the bend, jumping up and down with excitement and clawing at the lapels of Bucky’s jacket in an elated frenzy. Bucky wishes he had his phone out right now to capture this amazing moment, but he doesn’t want to move and risk the chance of Steve letting go of him. Call him selfish, but he likes it when Steve gets attached to him like this; he is never going to complain.

When the line opens, Sam gets in first, followed by Maria, Natasha, Clint, Bucky, and finally Steve on the other end. Bucky can feel Steve wiggling in his seat beside him and turns to face him, smiling when he sees Steve’s giant grin. Those beautiful blue orbs are dancing with excitement, shining brighter than all the stars in the sky and Bucky wants to cry tears of joy.

Steve is just so _happy_ , no one had better take this away from him.

“Excuse me, but you need to sit towards the inside of the Tram.” A small voice says, and Bucky’s world crumbles beside him.

Dammit. He spoke too soon.

Steve’s face loses all emotion, uncertainty and anxiety clouding over him at a quick and steady rate. He shoots Bucky a look of panic before turning to the source of the voice. Bucky looks over Steve’s head and sees that the source is none other than a Disney Cast Member.

“What?” Steve questions hesitantly, his small body beginning to shake. Bucky furrows his brows in concern, scooting closer to Steve subconsciously. A wave of fear passes through his body that leaves only one thing on Bucky’s mind: _protect Steve Rogers_.

Bucky watches as the cast member points to a sign at the front of their Tram car. _Small children are to be seated towards the inside of the Tram._

Hang on a second. Hang on a _fucking_ second. Is… Is this lady actually implying what Bucky _thinks_ she’s implying? No. No fucking way. She’d better not be. Without thinking, Bucky slips his metal hand into Steve’s hand, squeezing tightly for support.

“Ma’am, I’m twenty-six.”

When he hears Steve utter those words in the smallest voice possible, Bucky’s vision turns red. He’s fucking _pissed_. No one, absolutely no one has the right to do that to Steve. Just because Steve isn’t as big or as tall as most of the guys his age does not, by _any means_ , make him look like a _child_.

Steve has more heart and courage in his little body than most people have in a single finger. He’s loyal, honest, wonderful, fucking _amazing…_ Steve is the literal definition of perfect. Plus, he’s hot. Undeniably hot. And adorable. And cute. Bucky’s hopelessly in love, and he doesn’t deny it for a second.

Bucky throws his arm around Steve’s shoulders, shooting a glare at the woman as she walks away. _How fucking dare she, no one talks to my Steve like that. No one. My Steve. Mine. Fuck off, lady he’s mine._

Much to his surprise, Steve curls into his side and grasps Bucky’s jacket in his hands again, pulling himself closer into Bucky’s embrace. He’s still shaking, but it’s not as bad as it was just moments before. Unable to stop himself, Bucky presses a kiss to Steve’s temple as Steve closes his eyes, a small smile pulling at the blond’s lips.

With Steve relaxing peacefully on him, Bucky tips his head back with a sigh. Of course. The _one_ thing that Steve is so self-conscious is obviously brought up right away, and Bucky did nothing about it. Feeling terrible isn’t fun, but that’s what he’s experiencing right now.

He closes his own eyes, effectively blocking out the rest of the world and his problems and thinks of the only important subject: _Steve_.

___________________________________________________________

 

Bucky pulls out his phone when the group reaches the entrance. With the wait over, it’s finally time. Bags have been checked, sunglasses have been put on, and their tickets are ready to be scanned. But Steve has already made that part _very_ clear.

“Buck! Bucky, we’re getting our tickets!” Steve grabs at his jacket again, jumping up and down with a huge smile spread across his handsome face. Steve looks at Bucky’s phone and waves at it happily before looking back at Bucky. 

Steve is so cute, it’s honestly just fucking adorable. Had he made a move on Steve sooner, Bucky would have the ability and freedom to lean down and capture Steve’s smile with his lips, taste his happiness and feel it down to his very core. But he can’t. But that doesn’t mean he won’t in the future, and hopefully it’s the near future.

“Sign here, sirs.” A cast member calls to them both, and they both walk over and sign their names on their small paper tickets, grinning at each other like idiots. The lady scans it once more, before handing it back to them along with a map of the park and a smile of her own.

“Welcome to Disneyland.”

“Thank you!” Steve exclaims happily, grabbing his ticket and Bucky’s hand and pulling him through the turnstile. Once through, Steve lets go of his hand much to Bucky’s dismay, but he’s rewarded when he hears Steve gasp in surprise. 

“Bucky look at the train! Look at the train! Oh my god there’s a fucking _train_ here! Did you know they had a train?” Steve whips out his phone, taking a monumental amount of photos. “Can we go on it sometime?”

“Steve,” Bucky chuckles. “We’ve got two weeks to kill here, we can go on the train as many times as you want. But for now,” Bucky pulls Steve close and he swears that he hears Steve’s breath hitch. “I’ve got other plans.”

“W-what’s that?” Fuck. Steve has no idea what he does to Bucky. He’s gonna do it, right now. This is his moment. His moment to tell Steve that he—

“Alright love birds, break it up.” Clint’s voice floats through the air, making them jump apart. Bucky rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably, his face heating up and a nervous laugh falling from his lips. He looks up to see Natasha glaring at Clint, obviously upset that her boyfriend ruined the moment of perfect opportunity. Yeah well, he’s pretty upset too dammit.

Without saying anything more, the group leaves the main entrance and heads to Main Street, Steve pulling out the map along the way. Bucky uses the opportunity to fall back and walk side by side with Clint and Natasha. After a few seconds, Bucky raises his flesh hand and smacks Clint on the back of the head.

“Ow! What the hell man?” Clint hisses, rubbing the back of his head and glaring at Natasha when she laughs.

“Exactly! What the hell Clint? You ruined it!”

Clint stares at him dumbly, not seeming to understand. “I ruined what, exactly?” Bucky moves his hand to smack Clint again but is stopped when Clint grabs his wrist, squeezing tightly before letting go.

“Cool it hotshot. What did I mess up?”

Bucky opens his mouth to speak, but Natasha barrels over him. “He’s trying to get with Steve, you dumbass!”

“He’s wha— No way. Seriously?” Clint asks shocked. A smile begins to creep over his face when Bucky nods, blushing furiously. “Yes! _Finally._ So when are you gonna do it?”

Bucky scrubs his hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What the hell do you think I was trying to do back there— Guys, wait up!”

Steve runs off with Sam in tow, clearly ignoring Bucky’s plea. Within seconds, Steve has completely disappeared from his line of sight and he doesn’t like it one bit. He sends Natasha a pleading look, earning a snicker from her in return. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Bucky doesn’t think he’s run so fast in his life.

In less than a minute, he’s got Steve in his sights and in his arms, spinning him around happily as Sam smirks in the background. “You little punk!”

Steve giggles, wiggling in his grasp. “Buck, let me go!”

“Never.” And he means it. Not only now in this moment, but always. He’s never going to let Steve go, he _can’t_. Because if Bucky lets him go, then he’s also letting himself go as well. Steve is his everything, and if Bucky’s being honest, Steve has been his everything since they day they met when they were kids.

Maria, Natasha, and Clint have caught up with them by now, and Steve is still in his arms. Bucky doesn’t miss the eyebrow wiggle Natasha sends in his direction, but that’s okay. He will gladly put up with their teasing if it means that he can tell Steve that he loves him sometime during this trip.

Bucky is going to do it, he _is_. He’s just got to find the right moment to do it first.

The line for Pirates of the Caribbean goes by rather quickly, which means that in less than ten minutes they are all sitting in the boat, separated into three rows and grinning happily. The boat glides through the water smoothly once it leaves the boarding dock, the sound of water rippling around him sending Bucky into a state of peace. Taking a look at Steve from the corner of his eye, he pulls the most cliché move ever invented… Bucky yawns, stretching his arm and allowing it to fall around Steve’s shoulders. To his surprise, Steve doesn’t question it and cuddles closer into Bucky’s side.

In Bucky’s elated state of peace, he completely forgets about the drop.

Steve screams, clinging to his side as the boat descends into a pit of darkness, causing Bucky to laugh. Wrapping his arms around Steve, Bucky pulls him closer and continues to laugh until they reach the bottom.

“You jerk!” Steve exclaims, punching Bucky’s shoulder. “You knew that was gonna happen!” But before Steve can say anymore, the boat drops again and he’s clinging to Bucky once more.

When the boat finally gets to the bottom, it floats in a smooth line, a silent and telling signal that there isn’t going to be another drop anytime soon. Clint is laughing his ass off in the row in front of them, resting his head on Natasha’s shoulder in an effort to calm himself down. Steve wiggles his arm out of Bucky’s embrace and punches Clint in-between the shoulder blades, causing the man to wince slightly then continue laughing.

“I hate you guys,” Steve mumbles, but Bucky can tell that he’s smiling.

“Ah c’mon, don’t be like that.” Bucky teases, pulling Steve into his lap before he freezes. He honestly has no idea why he just did that, but there’s no turning back now because Steve’s ass is already fully seated on his thigh. Not knowing what else to do, Bucky tentatively wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and pulls Steve closer. He rubs small, comforting circles on Steve’s thighs as he tries to calm _himself_ down.

Today is going to be a very, _very_ long day.

___________________________________________________________

 

By three p.m., they had already gone on majority of the rides at the park, including the carousel and even Dumbo, which earned them some strange looks in return. Steve had managed to sneak bites of Bucky’s cotton candy when he thought his friend wasn’t looking, but Bucky totally knew. Heck, he was even leaning the sweet treat in Steve’s direction because call him sinful, he got pretty turned on when he watched Steve lick the excess cotton candy from his fingers from the corner of his eye. It took some imagination, but Bucky couldn’t help but think of what it would be like if Steve was licking _his_ fingers, or maybe… maybe his dic— _dammit Barnes, cool it._

They are just getting off Star Tours when Clint shrieks happily, covering his face with his hands to hide the fact that he’s smiling like an idiot. “Clint? Clint what’s—” Bucky starts, but is soon to follow Clint’s shocked reaction, the both of them grabbing and pulling each other close, staring ahead at the next attraction.

It’s mother-fucking _Space Mountain._

He hasn’t been on this ride in nearly a decade, fuck yeah is he going on it right now. “I-Is that…” Bucky tries, but he can’t continue.

“Yes, yes it is! Guys let’s go!” Clint takes off towards the ride with Bucky in tow, pulling him through the crowd and towards the line. It’s only a thirty minute wait, score! In his elated state of happiness, he hadn’t realized that Steve had separated from the group. It’s only when he’s calmed down and the rest of the group has joined them when he notices that Steve isn’t next to him.

_Shit. Shit shit mother fuck of shit! Where’s Steve? H-he was right here! Dammit Barnes, way to go you shallow fuck, you lost him. You're supposed to keep an eye on him dammit._ Bucky’s afraid that he’s going to throw himself into a panic attack, he’s so terrified. _I lost my Steve. My Steve. Where the hell did he go?_

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky’s voice comes out cracked and shaky, causing his friends to look at him with concern. “Guys, where the fuck is Steve?”

“He’s down there,” Sam point back towards the entrance. “He’s at the café or some—”

Without letting him finish, Bucky barrels past Sam and runs down the slope, trying his best to avoid other park-goers. Steve’s name is running through his mind; over and over and over again like a mantra, repeating itself in a taunting manner.

Getting back to the entrance of the ride, Bucky runs towards the café and spots Steve sitting at a table outside. What the _fuck_ are you doing Steven? He ungracefully approaches the table, smacking his hip on the corner painfully which emits a shocked yelp from his friend.

“Steve, what’re you doin’?!” Bucky demands, but it’s not very threatening since the brunet can barely form a sentence over the sound of his hard breathing. Holding a finger up, he waits a few seconds to catch his breath before he looks back up at Steve.

“Steve, w-why aren’t…” Bucky starts, “Why aren’t you comin’?”

Steve looks away sadly, staring down at the table as he twirls a sketching pencil in his hand. “I can’t go Buck…”

“Why—” But then it clicks, and Bucky feels like the biggest asshole in the world. Steve has scoliosis. While it’s not a bad case of it, it’s not the best either. It’s effected him his entire life, and Bucky should know; he’d accompanied Steve when he went to doctors appointments, worrying about his friend as he sat in waiting rooms, willing the clock to go faster so that he could hear from Steve again. “Oh, I forgot… Shit, I’m so sorry Stevie.”

Grabbing a chair from another table, Bucky takes a seat and settles comfortably. If Steve can’t go on the ride, then neither is Bucky. “Umm, what’re ya doin’ Buck?”

Bucky looks up at him with shock lying every feature of his face. “I-I’m gonna stay here with you.”

“Buck, don’t be an idiot, I _saw_ how much you wanted to go on that ride.”

“Oh yeah, like hanging out with you is an idiotic idea.” Bucky snorts sarcastically, twiddling his thumbs as he looks at Steve.

“Uh yeah, it is.” Bucky glares at him. He hates it when Steve talks shit about himself. How does he not see how perfect he is? Steve is everything anyone could ever want, yet he doesn’t see himself like that at all. One day soon, Bucky is going to show Steve just how perfect he is, even if it kills him.

“Just go Bucky, I’ll be here when you get back…” _You better be Rogers,_ Bucky thinks. _If you’re not here I’m going to lose my mind._ “Don’t make me call your mother.” Steve states, opening his sketchbook.

Bucky shoot upwards. He knows that that is _not_ an empty threat. Steve’s done it before multiple times, and he doesn’t want to go through another lecture from his mom. “Okay, okay! I’m goin’, I’m goin’!” Bucky chortles out, making Steve laugh. God, he loves Steve’s laugh. “You call me if you go anywhere, ya hear?”

“Yes sir,” Steve mock salutes, earning a grin from Bucky. With a final nod, Bucky regretfully leaves the table, walking back to the ride entrance and through the line, trying to get back to his friends. Bucky repeats his conversation with Steve in his head again and stops short. Steve called him _sir_. Well fuck, that just created a brand new feeling in Bucky that he didn’t know he had. With filthy imaginations swirling in his head, he somehow manages to find his friends and go on the ride.

But what happens after the ride… that brings out something _else_ in Bucky.

___________________________________________________________

 

“That was awesome!” Clint exclaims, pumping a fist in the air with a happy shout. Bucky laughs, throwing his arm around Clint’s shoulders in agreement. They just got off Space Mountain and yes he’ll admit it, the ride was a lot of fun. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it until he was strapped in and zooming around in ‘space’.

“Hey, who’s that with Steve?” Maria questions, pointing across the walkway towards the café. Bucky immediately directs his attention towards the café, trying to catch a glimpse of his friend. When Steve comes into his view, Bucky spots a stranger at the table and his blood starts to boil.

Bucky lets go of Clint and takes a few steps closer, aiming to get a better look. What he sees makes him clench his fists, the gears in his metal arm whirring. Steve is uncomfortable, that much is clear. His face is pale and even from this distance, Bucky can see his lip quivering and his leg bouncing up and down subtly. Suddenly, the stranger leans forward and grabs Steve’s hands, causing the blond to flick and try to pull away.

This guy is hurting Steve, his Steve, _my Steve._ Bucky lurches forward in an effort to run over and save Steve from this stranger who fucking _dared_ to touch his Steve, but he’s held back by Sam and Clint. Bucky struggles in their hold, trying to get free. _Steve needs me, Steve’s hurting I gotta get to him!_

“Bucky, dude, calm down.” Sam tries, tightening his hold on Bucky.

“No! You don’t understand! It’s Steve, he needs—”

“Bucky,” Clint mutters, throwing his weight into Bucky. “Steve’s fine, I promise you he’s—”

“No! What the fuck guys, let me go!” Bucky struggles, finally freeing his arm only to have it pinned to his back again by Sam. They don’t get it. Steve may not appear to be hurt or in trouble, but Bucky knows Steve better than anyone. Steve’s uncomfortable and that alone pisses Bucky off.

Bucky throws his head around, catching another look of Steve. This time, the stranger is nowhere to be found, but Steve is cradling his hands to his chest with a painful expression on his face. Bucky has to get to Steve, he _has to_.

Unfortunately, Sam and Clint ruin his plans. They pull him to the nearest bathroom and drag him inside, locking him in before letting go. “What the hell you guys?! Steve’s in trouble, don’t you understand?!”

Bucky tries to push past Sam but the other man stands his ground, crossing his arms and giving Bucky a stern look. Bucky knows he can’t fight his way out of this. He obviously _could_ , but he doesn’t want to hurt his friends either. Frustrated, Bucky stomps over to the sink and turns on the water, watching it flow down the drain at a steady pace. It takes him a few seconds, but he manages to cup some water in his hands and splash it on his face. Turning it off, he looks up and stares at himself in the mirror.

Bucky’s eyes are wide and angry, the muscles on his body coiled with tension and frustration. _Somebody hurt his Steve, my Steve. No one fucking touches Steve. No one but him. Anyone else… he’ll kill ‘em, he can’t… he can’t stand the thought of Steve being hurt. My Steve. My Steve. He’s fucking mine._

“Huh?” Clint asks quietly, and Bucky realizes that he’s been mumbling.

“My Steve…” Bucky whispers, looking down at his hands. “My Steve.” He repeats.

“No Bucky, not yours.” Sam answers wisely, and Bucky wants to punch him for being right. Steve isn’t his yet… dammit. “He’s not yours, Buck.”

“My Stevie.” Bucky mutters dumbly, clearly not understanding what Sam is trying to tell him. “No one touches him like that, fucking _no one_ , Wilson!”

Bucky’s breathing is hard and erratic, animalistic almost. Call him possessive. Call him wrong. Call him controlling. Call him whatever you want, Steve is _his_ and no one is taking him away from Bucky.

“Look Buck,” Clint chimes in, obviously trying to find a middle ground. “As much as you say he's yours, he’s not. Not until you make him yours. Get what I’m saying?” Bucky nods. “Good. Steve is his own person and he can take care of himself. But if you’re going to walk around here and claim that—”

“Steve is mine.”

“—Steve… yeah, that. You can’t walk around saying shit like that unless you actually mean it. So get your act together, Barnes, before someone else sweeps Steve off his feet before you get the chance to do it yourself.”

Clint walks out of the bathroom followed by Sam, leaving Bucky alone and leaning over the sink. He wants to cry, he wants to laugh, he wants… he wants Steve. Why is that so _hard_ for everyone to understand?

He straightens up, fixing his jacket and smoothing over his hair before walking out of the bathroom. Bucky shoves his hands into his pockets, staring at the ground as he walks to the café to meet up with the rest of his friends. Once there, he wraps Steve in a tight hug, a small apology for his actions even though Steve has no idea what the hell he just went through.

“You okay Stevie?” Bucky whispers into his ear.

“I am now,” Steve responds, nuzzling his head into Bucky’s chest as he bunches up Bucky’s shirt in his nimble fingers. No matter what it takes, _Bucky_ is going to be the one who sweeps Steve off his feet. No one else. Not on his life. “Don’t leave Buck, please.”

It’s always been Steve and Bucky ‘til the end of the line, and nothing it going to change that. Not now and not ever.

“I’m not leaving you again, I promise.”


	3. Day One Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve’s laughter dies down entirely, and they do nothing but stare at each other in silence. Bucky scans Steve’s face, trying to guess what he might be thinking. Then Steve, in a split second, glances down at Bucky’s lips before snapping his eyes back up. It’s long enough for Bucky to understand. He moves in cautiously, his movements slow enough to give Steve an out, just incase he doesn’t want this. He’s going to do it. He’s taking Sam’s advice of _“kiss him”_. This is it. _Oh my god, this is happening, holy shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY I AM SUCH A TERRIBLE PERSON.
> 
> I was supposed to update this two days ago, but I got all caught up with finishing my final exams and all that "good stuff" that I haven't had the time to edit this. But a big shout out to all you beautiful, amazing people who put up with my terrible writing schedule. You guys mean the world to me❤︎
> 
> But I truly hope you guys like this chapter! Let me know what you think! :)
> 
> As always, you can read Steve's POV [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9537695/chapters/21566546)
> 
> PLEASE READ THE FOLLOWING NOTES BEFORE READING THE CHAPTER
> 
> [DISCLAIMER]
> 
> If you have any triggers regarding appendage loss, car accident/car malfunction resulting in an accident, and/or hospitals, skip the second set of italics in the second section of this chapter. I don't want to set anyone off because of it. And guys, if there is EVER something that does trouble you and it's not listed in the Additional Tags section, please don't hesitate to tell me. It's not my intention to set anyone off, ever. Let me know, I won't get offended I can promise you that.
> 
> [ADDITIONAL NOTES]  
> [[please, please read]]
> 
> In regards to the car 'crash' scene that I mentioned in the note above^^, I had a very difficult time writing it. Yes, it is a very, very short scene and doesn't have too much detail, but there is a reason for that. I lost my father to a 'crash' that was SO similar to what I wrote for that scene, that it's not even funny. I shit you not, I changed a few details (such as location and "exactly how it happened", because obviously I don't want them to be the same) but you'll get the basic idea once you read it. So all I ask is that you guys go easy on me for that one part, and don't hate me because it's short. I somehow managed to write it without throwing myself into a severe panic attack, but I can't go into more detail that I already have. It hurts too much to do so.
> 
> I'm very, very sorry.

Because he is a downright pushover and the most annoying little shit to ever come out of New York (besides Sam) Clint got to pick where the group was going to eat dinner tonight. Despite Bucky’s adamant complains and protests, a simple glare from Natasha shut him up quickly. Clint’s little “destination dinner” takes them all halfway across the park, back to New Orleans Square. Upon seeing the restaurant Clint picked, Bucky can’t help but smile and send Clint an unspoken apology.

It’s been _years_ since Bucky last ate here, and if he has to be honest, he fucking _loves_ the food. The pizza and pasta is made fresh, the soup is downright delicious, and the desserts. Oh god, don’t even get him started.

The journey to find an empty table doesn’t take long, considering everyone at the park is lined up by the waterfront, waiting eagerly for the fireworks to start in less than an hour. Taking their respective seats, Bucky sighs in relief as he sits down. His legs hurt, his feet hurt, his entire body hurts. They’ve been walking around all day, dashing from ride to ride in an effort to find the shortest lines possible. He’s not the only one who’s tired either. The girls groan unhappily as they take their seats, Natasha going as far as propping her feet in Clint’s lap and leaning against Maria.

“Oh gosh,” Steve grumbles beside Bucky, placing his elbows on the table and holding his head up in his hands. “I’m exhausted.”

Bucky hums quietly in agreement, closing his eyes for a moment and reliving the day in his mind.

Today was fun, there is no doubt about that. Some of the rides have changed since Bucky has been here, but they are still very much enjoyable. The treats and snacks are just as good, if not better, than he remembers it; although they are _much_ more expensive, he knows that for a fact. But his absolute _favourite_ part about today was Steve.

As per usual, Steve is always his favourite part of the day. Seeing his face and hearing his laugh always manages to put a smile on Bucky’s face, no matter what is going on elsewhere. His beautiful blue eyes are so expressive, so inquisitive and bright. They reflect on Steve’s mood perfectly, whether he is excited or upset, all one must do is look into his eyes to figure it out.

All Bucky’s seen is Steve’s eyes today was joy and exhilaration, happiness and enjoyment. He saw bliss in those exquisite blue orbs when Steve bit into a sweet treat, heard that low, heated moan in delight that emanated from the blond when the sugar hit his tongue. Bucky wanted nothing more than to lean over taste that moan for himself, but no. It’s not time yet, it’s too soon. But by the end of the week, Steve will be his and there’s nothing stopping him from making that happen.

Bucky is knocked out of his reservoir when Clint suddenly grasps his arm, pulling him violently out of his seat. “The fuck you think you’re doin’?” Bucky growls, wobbling slightly on his feet as he tries to gain some balance. Clint chuckles, reaching out with his other arm to steady his friend before patting his chest light-heartedly.

“We,” Clint states matter-of-factly. “Are going to go get the food.”

Damn Clint and his fucking chivalry. Bucky’s tired and doesn’t want to do jackshit at the moment, but unfortunately Clint’s decision is final.

“Can I come?” Steve asks eagerly and Bucky looks over at his friend, who is smiling brightly with hope. Bucky feels a smile of his own grace his lips. _Steve is too fucking adorable._

“Yeah,” Bucky responds happily at the same time Clint says, “No.”

Wait, what?

Bucky turns slowly, looking at Clint with skeptical eyes. He doesn’t understand. Why can’t Steve come with them? Why is Clint denying him the luxury of spending even _more_ time with Steve. Clint gives him a look, a clear sign that there is no deterring his mindset.

Steve looks between the two of the with a confused expression, a tinge of hurt lining his eyes and Bucky wants to slap Clint for putting it there. “Umm…?”

“You stay, we’ll get the food.” Clint explains quickly before pushing Sam and Bucky towards the entrance of the restaurant. Bucky throws Steve an expression that clearly says _“I’m sorry”_ , which the blond only chuckles at and sends him off with a wave.

Clint doesn’t let go of Bucky until they reach the line, and even then he has to restrain Bucky from going back and getting Steve to join them. “Dude, chill.”

Bucky huffs, straightening his jacket and shrugging Clint’s hands off of him. “Why didn’t you let him come, Barton?”

“Well, I can’t ask you what I want to ask you if he’s around.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, looking to Sam for help, only to get a confused shrug in return. “Don’t look at me man, I’m just here for the food.”

With a sigh, Bucky casts one last look at Steve before tearing his eyes away from his friend and following Clint and Sam into the restaurant. Clint picks up a menu, studying it carefully as Sam wanders off to grab a couple of trays for them to carry the food. “Talk, Barton.” Bucky nudges Clint’s arm gently, trying to get him to turn around. “What did you want to ask me?”

Clint doesn’t look up when he responds. “When are you going to _actually_ make a move? Everyone knows you both have a thing for each other. Nat even told me she showed you a text message or… something, I don’t know. She wouldn’t give any details. But, I’ll repeat: when are you making a move?”

Bucky scrubs a hand over his face in defeat. “I… I don’t know. Sometime soon, but… it’s just not time yet.”

“Oh bullshit, Barnes.” Clint laughs at Bucky’s excuse, putting away the menu with an exaggerated eye roll. “The only thing that’s stopping you is yourself. I bet that if you made a move on Steve right now, he’d gladly accept it.”

“I second that,” Sam pipes up, walking over to them and handing them their own food trays. Bucky groans, stepping towards the foodline and trying his best to ignore the laughter coming from his friends. Try as he might, he can’t help but smile as well.

His friends are dorks, absolute little shits who know how to push all his buttons, but he loves them. They mean well, of course, he knows that. All of his friends have know about Bucky’s incessant desire to be with Steve, and now that Clint knows that _Bucky_ knows about the text message, he’s going to stop at nothing until he gets them together.

“C’mon, Buck. It’s like you’re not even trying.” Clint appears by his side within seconds, reaching around him to grab a small bowl of salad for Natasha. “After your little _‘stunt’_ you pulled earlier, you really need to figure your shit out, Barnes, before someone else does.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows, reaching forward to grab some bread for him and Steve to share. “What do you mean _someone else_?”

“Are you really _that_ thick in the head? Bucky, have you _met_ Steve?”

It takes all his willpower to not glare daggers at Clint. No _shit_ , of course he’s fucking met Steve. Who else does he share an apartment with? And a car? And has twenty-seven years of pent of sexual frustration for? Come on, Barton. Get with the program.

“What he’s _trying_ to say, Bucky,” Sam butts in, standing in-between Clint and Bucky. “Is that Steve is a catch. Anyone would be lucky to have Steve as a boyfriend. Hell, if I was gay, I’d be all over that.” Despite himself, Bucky growls unhappily. “Relax dude, I’m not taking away your boy.”

“You better fucking not.” Bucky responds, then sighs. He can’t keep doing this anymore, acting this possessive. It’s not right. Steve isn’t even his boyfriend and he’s acting like they’ve been together and someone is trying to take Steve away. “Look, I’m sorry. There’s just a lot going on right now, and… I don’t even know how to _approach_ Steve on the subject.”

“Simple. You don’t.” Sam says simply, rolling his eyes at Bucky’s confused stare. “You don’t say anything, just… go for it. Kiss him. Hold his hand. I don’t know. You’ll figure it out.”

Bucky nods wordlessly, continuing his path down the line to the clam chowders and carefully setting two down on the tray. His mind wanders, as do his feet, which continue to carry him down the line, following Sam and Clint. Bucky takes Sam’s advice in account. Maybe he’s not doing enough to show Steve that he feels the same. After his ruined attempt this morning and his panic attack a couple hours ago, Bucky tells himself to take things slow. Baby steps. He’ll drop little signs and hints, hoping that Steve will catch on eventually. And if he doesn’t, well, looks like Bucky will have to outright _show_ him.

With trays full and meals paid for, the three of them walk out into the courtyard with careful steps, trying their hardest to balance the food and not let it fall. Clint announces their arrival, and with the help of everyone at the table clearing a space for the trays, they are all seated and digging into their meals within a few minutes.

Steve ends up absolutely loving the soup, sending Bucky a happy nod when he asks him if he likes it. He tries to sneak a picture of Steve acting like a dork over something as simple as soup, but he quickly abandons that idea when his friend starts attacking him with a spoon. At the table, they talk about everything and nothing, sharing videos and pictures that were taken throughout the day by passing around their phones.

Maria had managed to capture Clint and Bucky in the act of fangirling over Space Mountain, which Steve has a field day over, laughing breathlessly as he asks Maria to send it to him. Sam nearly dies of laughter when he finds a priceless picture of Clint in his camera roll. In the picture, Clint looks like he’s about to cry; in one hand is an ice cream cone and on the ground by his feet is none other than his actual ice cream. Clint is blushing hard, weakly telling everyone to stop laughing at him.

But by far, all of Bucky’s favorite pictures have Steve in them. There’s a selfie of Steve and Bucky in front of the Castle, sticking their tongues out like complete idiots. There’s one where Steve had managed to get a bit of ice cream on the tip of his nose, his nose scrunched up in the most adorable way and his eyes squeezed shut from laughter. Bucky’s favorite one, however, is of Steve sitting on the floor of a Main Street gift shoppe, sketchbook in his lap as he stares up at the wall of stuffed animals before him. Steve looks so peaceful, completely lost in his mind as the pencil flies across the page with meticulous precision, a beautiful and detailed image slowly appearing on the paper before him.

Bucky tilts away his phone and opens his settings, scrolling down until he gets to the _‘wallpaper’_ category. Within seconds, the _new_ picture of Steve is on his home and lock screen, and he can’t be happier. Most likely, the cover on his screen will change multiple times throughout the trip, constantly filling up with more pictures of Steve.

And Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

___________________________________________________________

 

Bucky flops down on the bed after he changes into his pajamas, lying comfortably on his back and opening his phone with a yawn. It’s been a long day, but it was so worth it. Knowing that Steve had a fantastic time at the park fills him with happiness and pride, making his insides pool with warmth and satisfaction. He would never pass up an opportunity to see Steve smile, those plump lips curving upwards and just asking, _begging_ , to be bitten and sucked.

And Bucky would gladly deliver. As a matter of fact, he’ll do it as soon as Steve finishes changing. Sam told him to make a move. To make his signs and gestures a bit more obvious. That’s why he is currently shirtless, and has a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips, a silent, but hopefully telling, message to Steve. If Steve still doesn’t pick it up, then he’ll have to think harder.

Bucky begins to distract himself as he waits for Steve to come out of the bathroom, scrolling through his photos and videos to look for more that have Steve in them. Again. It’s nothing new for Bucky, especially ever since he dedicated an entire folder on his phone to only videos and pictures featuring Steve. He has videos of visiting Peggy and Angie at the coffee shoppe with Steve, dorky pictures of the two of them from their beach days during the summer (which are some of his personal favorites because Steve is shirtless too), lazy weekend pictures of Steve curled up on the couch, a hot cocoa mug in hand as he stared at the TV ahead of him. Bucky also has plenty of other ones too, such as a video from the plane when Steve started talking in his sleep, or a video of Steve dancing in the kitchen to a song on the radio when he thought no one was looking. Oblivious Steve captured on camera is awesome, there’s no doubt about it.

Bucky clicks on the nearest video, and it turns out to be of Steve trying a frozen banana from earlier today. Saying that Bucky used to be _obsessed_ with the frozen treat when he was a kid would be an understatement, so _of course_ he would recommend that Steve try it. But what he didn’t take into account is that… a banana… and a dick… both have… uh… similar shapes. And Bucky already has plenty of fantasies that involve Steve sucking a dick, more specifically, _his_ dick. Watching Steve eat that fucking banana didn’t help his case _at all_.

A sudden dip in his bed causes Bucky to jolt in surprise, a slew of laughter spewing out of him when he realizes that it’s only Steve. Wait. Shit. _Steve._ Bucky scrambles to grab his phone, effectively closing the video and scrolling around mindlessly, opting to open a game as a last resort. How would Steve react if he caught him watching that video? Friends don’t watch videos of their friends eating food. That’s just… weird… But of course, Steve catches the movement almost instantaneously and questions him.

“Oh my god,” Steve murmurs, half his face smothered by the pillow beside him. “Were you watching porn?”

Okay, so… not the route that Bucky thought this conversation was going. Huh. Technically speaking, Steve is one hundred percent correct, because if him sucking on a banana doesn’t count as porn, than everyone else can go home. That simple little action turned a simple treat into a goddamn sexual turn-on, so yeah, it’s basically fucking _porn_.

“Well,” Bucky suggests nonchalantly, making Steve shriek.

“ _Oh my god, Bucky!_ ” Steve makes fake gagging noises as he turns his body so he’s lying on his back. Bucky laughs loudly and turns off his phone, setting it down on his chest as he turns to drink in the sight of Steve. “Were you seriously watching fucking _porn_?”

“Not… _exactly_ … something similar?” Bucky supplies, angling his body towards Steve and propping his head in his metal hand as he watches Steve fall into a fit of laughter, his tiny body shaking happily. With Steve’s hands covering his face, Bucky takes the time to let his eyes trail over Steve’s lithe, sexy little body.

The sharp curves of Steve’s jawline and cheekbones enrapture Bucky to the point where he can’t _help_ but imagine about what it would feel like to press light, gentle, loving kisses on them. Brush his lips across Steve’s smooth cheeks, his sinful mouth, his gorgeous neck. Anywhere he can get his lips on. Bucky would kiss down his lean, beautiful chest, suck and bite at his pale skin, marking it up and claiming it as his. No one else would ever get to see Steve naked and panting and whimpering and begging for release, because that scene is for Bucky’s eyes only.

Bucky directs his gaze downwards, even though he knows he shouldn’t be. It’s rude, but it’s also just too damn tempting. Because Steve raised his arms to cover his adorably blushing face, the fabric of his shirt has ridden up. Bucky can see the edge of Steve’s boxers, the grey material teasing him of what he can’t have, at least not yet anyways. His fingers itch to touch Steve, to run his hands down Steve’s body and pleasure him in the best possible way. His mouth yearns to cover the blond’s skin in kisses, bites, hickeys, marks. His arms, both metal and flesh, beg Bucky to wrap Steve up and protect him from the world. To hold him, keep him safe and warm and loved until the end of time.

But it’s his heart that cries out the loudest.

His heart loves Steve with all of its being, every fiber and molecule and cell. His heart laughs when Steve laughs, as he tries to remember why they were laughing in the first place, for Bucky was far too busy watching Steve talk than to pay attention to the joke. His heart aches and stabs and crushes itself when Steve cries, and is only repaired when Steve crawls into Bucky’s arms for comfort. His heart does a funny, happy skip, when Steve tries to flirt back with Bucky, only to end up as a blushing mess instead. His heart coils with jealousy and hurt when someone attempts to make a pass at Steve, only to beat happily again when Steve politely declines, sending the man off and making his way back to Bucky.

His heart does funny things when Steve is on his mind, Bucky knows this. He’s known since the day he figured out what love meant that his heart would always belong to one, Steven Grant Rogers.

Steve’s chuckles begin to quiet down, his body shaking less and relaxing more. Bucky brings his gaze back to Steve and meets his beautiful, deep blue eyes. God, he’s been in love with those eyes since the _day_ they met, got so _lost_ in those enticing pools of excitement and boldness that he _literally_ crawled right into the leg of his baby crib. He barely remembers it now, though he knows he had started crying, complaining of the pain that had suddenly struck his head. But before his mother could reach him and coddle him in her arms, little baby Steve slowly but surely crawled across the playmat and towards him. Tiny hands examined the small bump forming on Bucky’s head, silent and careful movements that wiped away Bucky’s tears.

_Bucky sniffled quietly, unsure of what to do since there was a new, unfamiliar human touching his face. The tiny human studied his face, those pretty blue eyes scanning the bump carefully. The tiny human’s hands reached up, his thumbs brushing away Bucky’s tears. The tiny human’s fingers accidentally bumped against Bucky’s nose, causing him to giggle loudly._

_The tiny human lit up, pulling away and clapping his hands happily. “Okay!”_

_Bucky kept giggling as the tiny human reached out and tapped his nose again. “Okay, okay, okay!”_

_Then the tiny human was being taken away from him, and Bucky whimpered in distress. He liked the tiny human, why is another human taking him away?_

_“Winnie, S-Steve said his first word!” A bigger human had the tiny human in her arms, laughing and crying as she held him. Bucky pulled at her pant leg and whimpered again, loud enough for the big human to look down and smile. The big human carefully put the tiny human, ‘Steve’, back on the playmat. Bucky didn’t waist time crawling over to him, laughing in delight when Steve clapped, giggling happily and babbling out a small string of “okay”s._

As Bucky said, since day one. He’s loved Steve Rogers since the very beginning.

Steve’s laughter dies down entirely, and they do nothing but stare at each other in silence. Bucky scans Steve’s face, trying to guess what he might be thinking. Then Steve, in a split second, glances down at Bucky’s lips before snapping his eyes back up. It’s long enough for Bucky to understand. He moves in cautiously, his movements slow enough to give Steve an out, just incase he _doesn’t_ want this. He’s going to do it. He’s taking Sam’s advice of _“kiss him”_ . This is it. _Oh my god, this is happening, holy shit._

Right as Bucky is mere inches away from Steve’s face, the blond jumps back, putting a large space in-between them. “Oh my gosh, I completely forgot!”

Bucky’s arm flies out, trying to stop Steve and make it clear that he was trying to kiss him, but he misses Steve by a hair. Hurt and rejection covers his face, but he pushes it aside. Steve has _never_ been good at taking hints, _ever_ , so he can’t blame him for not knowing. Oh well…

_Wow… great time for remembering things, Rogers, you oblivious fucking dork,_ Bucky thinks as Steve hops off the bed and runs across the room to his bed. With a defeated sigh, Bucky smiles sadly and turns around on the bed, watching Steve dig through his art bag. Bucky’s smile turns fond as Steve giggles happily, grabbing something inside the bag before turning around.

“I got you somethin’.” Steve declares, walking the short distance between the beds ad kneeling down so that he is eye level with Bucky. His arms are behind his back, clearly hiding Bucky’s gift.

“Hmm, you did now, huh?”

“Yep.” Steve smiles at him before slowly moving his hands, presenting the gift to Bucky shyly. It’s a tiny, little ‘Winnie the Pooh’ tsum tsum, and Bucky wants to cry. Tears of joy and remembrance and love pool in his eyes, effectively blurring his vision as he gasps in surprise. While it may not seem like much, Pooh has a strong history with them, a very strong, heartbreaking history.

_“Jack, are you fixing up the Impala or what?” Bucky yelled across the garage of Hydra Mechanics, trying to get his coworker’s attention. He was tired, sore, and hungry, and he just wanted to go home. His ended a few minutes ago, but he’s not leaving a car unfixed if he has anything to do with it._

_“Yeah, I’ll get to it later.” Jack called back, but Bucky rolled his eyes. ‘Later’ for Jack really means ‘never’. Grabbing the remote for the car lift, Bucky strolled over to the Impala, effectively securing it to the metal plates. With a simple press of a button, the car lifted off the ground slowly, moving inch by inch with creaky movements. Bucky knew, without a doubt, that this lift was going to break soon. He’s talked with the manager about getting it fixed before someone got hurt, but all her got in return was a pat on the shoulder and nothing else. Typical._

_Bucky lay on the floor, moving half his body underneath the car as he tossed the remote away, clearing his work space for the job. Grabbing his wrench from his belt, Bucky carefully fixed the gear underneath the car. Success._

_He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, sliding the wrench back into its spot on his belt._

_That’s when he heard it._

_A soft, creaking noise emanating from the lift above him. It grew louder, and louder, and louder, and he finally realized what was happening. Bucky scrambled away from the lift as best he could, but the sleeve on his uniform caught on a crack in the metal, paralyzing him of further escape._

_The car came down with a loud ‘CRASH’._

_He doesn’t remember much._

_He doesn’t remember yelling and crying out in pain, screaming for someone to help him._

_He doesn’t remember the sound of every bone breaking in his left arm, crushing it completely._

_He doesn’t remember nearly bleeding out on the floor of the shittiest car repair shoppe in New York._

_But he does remember some things._

_He remembers thinking he was going to die._

_He remembers thinking he would never see Steve again._

_He remembers regretting not telling Steve that he loved him before it was too late._

_He remembers telling the paramedics Steve’s phone number before blacking out completely._

_When he came back to the land of the living, Steve was there. Fast asleep at his bedside in a hospital chair, cuddling a little Winnie the Pooh plushie. He was there. Even when he was in immense pain and hadn’t even realized that he didn’t have a fucking ARM, Bucky saw the traces of dried tears on Steve’s cheeks and his puffy eyelids and he instantly became worried. He felt terrible for putting Steve in this position, for nearly dying and leaving his friend alone._

_He tried to sit up, but it was then that he realized that he didn’t have his other arm. His breathing picked up, his heart rate spiked higher than Everest as he stared down at the white bandage wrapped around his shoulder. Steve awoke to the loud beeping from the heart monitor, beginning to cry when he figured out why Bucky was panicking in the first place._

_“S-Steve…” Bucky gasped, reaching out to grab his friend. Steve came easily, holding him close and cradling his head to his chest. “W-why don’t I have… where… m-my… w-where is it…”_

_Steve shook his head, unable to speak nor explain why his arm had disappeared. They held each other and cried. Cried for Bucky. Cried for his lost arm. Cried for the horrible turn of events. They did nothing but cry, holding each other as a lifeline as tears flowed out like the flood._

_The second time to the hospital wasn’t as bad, when they went to get a metal arm attached to his shoulder. Steve brought the bear again, holding it tightly as Bucky was carted off to surgery. He held it as he slept beside Bucky in the large hospital bed, curled into his right side and the bear in-between them. Steve held onto that bear until Bucky was discharged from the hospital._  

_A family came into the hospital from a recent car wreck. The parents were uninjured, but their daughter was not. She had severe wounds, and had unfortunately lost both of her legs. That’s when Bucky looked over at Steve and simply mumbled, “You know what to do, Stevie.”_

_Steve smiled and left the room, returning minutes later empty handed. That little girl needed it, and by the looks of it, Steve knew it too._

Bucky stares ahead at the bear, tears slipping down his cheeks as he carefully picks up the delicate toy. He smiles at it, memories flooding through his head all at once, filling every crack and crevice in his mind.

“Crap, I’m sorry Buck, if ya don’t like it.” Steve starts shakily, looking down at the floor as he plays with the hem of his shirt. Bucky… he _loves_ it. This tiny little bear holds so much meaning for them, for him. It was there for Steve when Bucky couldn’t be, keeping him safe and warm. Bucky owes so much to this little bear, because it kept the love of his life stable and calm when he couldn’t. And Steve thinks Bucky doesn’t like it? _Heck no._ “— _oof_.”

Bucky surges off the bed, tackling Steve to the ground unceremoniously. Regaining his balance quickly, Bucky seats Steve in his lap and crushes him in a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love it. Steve, I love it. Thank you.” Bucky mumbles into his neck, closing his eyes and remembering that he’s _okay now. He’s with Steve. Steve is safe. He is safe. Everything is going to be okay._

Steve wraps his arms around Bucky too, pulling him impossibly closer and pressing a kiss to his temple. “You’re welcome, Buck.”

There, sitting on the floor at nearly midnight, Bucky’s _‘I love you’_ goes unsaid, and so does Steve’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference:
> 
> Pooh Tsum Tsum  
> 
> 
> I mean c'mon, it's frickin' adorable! :D
> 
> \---------
> 
> I hope that chapter was okay. I'll be getting back to Steve's POV as soon as I can :P
> 
> (Again, I'm very sorry if I wrote something that triggered or upset you. It was not my intention at all.❤︎)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment/kudos if you liked it, because it's the support that keeps me writing! I'll see you lovelies next chapter!
> 
> Come party with me on [Tumblr!](https://jaybird6232.tumblr.com)


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